


Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by ShelbzFunSized



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5707624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShelbzFunSized/pseuds/ShelbzFunSized
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexandra Merlyn was used to it all; she'd spent the past five years serving her country in the middle east, a rash decision she made after the loss of one of her closest friends.  After an ambush on her convoy left her unable to continue, she received an honorable discharge from the Army and headed home to her brother in Starling City once more.  What she didn't count on was the return of the two reasons she felt compelled her to leave home in the first place, much less feeling torn between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm working on title ideas as we speak, and of course feedback is much appreciated.

_"Dean, talk to me!" I shouted, frustration clear in my voice.  I watched as he continued to round up his belongings, shoving them roughly into his olive green duffle bag without a second thought.  "What the hell is going on? Who was that man?"_

_"He's my dad, Alex." Something was off; the carefree Dean from a few moments ago was gone. There was a certain degree of upset in his hardened voice, a small, sad glint in his green eyes.  "I've gotta go.  I don't expect you to understand."_

_"So make me understand, then," I offered.  "Of course you can't expect me to if you don't even try to explain what's going on."_

_"We've got work to do," He gruffly stated, making his way to the master bath._

_"What kind of work?" He sighed heavily, pausing momentarily with his hand on his electric razor._

_"Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me." I tried to block his way, to get him to explain further, but he easily shoved past me with his shoulder._

_"Try me," I offered, changing my approach.  "You've **seen** what my brother and Ollie can get into.  Do you really think this could be any different?"_

_"It's completely different," Dean scoffed._

_"Why won't you tell me?!  What the hell are you so goddamned afraid of?!"_

_"You wanna know? **Fine.** My family, we're hunters." My gaze narrowed in confusion._

_"Like, deer and shit? You're rushing off to go slaughter Bambi and his family?" I asked._

_"No, not going to slaughter Bambi," He darkly chuckled before looking at me, void of emotion.  "We hunt ghosts, vampires, that kind of thing."_

_"Those aren't real."_

_"Yes, they are.  A demon killed my mother, Alex, and I watched it burn our house down when I was a kid." He explained.  "We've been hunting it down since." I shooki my head in disbelief.  "What, I told you that you wouldn't believe me."_

_"Dean, if you wanted to leave, all you had to do was say so," I spoke, voice low and hurt as tears threatened to come.  "You didn't have to make up some elaborate lie, pay some guy to pretend to be your dad and barge into **my family's house** , just to go.  You want out, fine, fucking leave.  No need to fake your way."_

_"I'm not lying to you, Alex," He defended.  "I'm telling you the truth!" Dean rushed after me as I shrugged into my coat, tucking my wallet, keys, and cellphone into the pockets._

_"Bullshit." I scoffed, pulling away from his grasp.  "Just make sure the door's locked on your way out."_

_"Alex, wait, pl--"_

_"No, Dean, this is it.  Goodbye."  I slammed the door to the house I shared with my father and brother behind myself._

 

I woke with a startle, body covered in sweat.  Dim lighting and the smell of disinfectant greeted me, as well as the soft beep of a heart monitor.  _Right,_ I told myself.   _Hospital._  I lifted the covers to see the welcomed sight of sterile gauze wrapped around my right upper thigh, matching the bandage that covered my entire right forearm and left wrist.  Immediately I began to calm down, gazing out the window just in time to see the dawn break over a skyline I hadn't seen in quite sometime.   _We must've arrived sometime after I fell asleep._ My hand clutched at the dog tags around my neck, pulling them from under my crew necked tee for solace.  I hadn't been home in six years, and now I had to learn to readjust to civilian life.  I had to get to know my family all over again. The clock on the wall read just after 4 am.   _I guess I can try to get some more rest before the vultures descend._  I closed my eyes, praying that the dreams would stop, letting the morphine drip lull me back to a somber slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

_"I don't care.  Just push the meeting, my daughter's home and that's all that matters at the moment."_ Great.  My dad's here, and he's the last person I wanted to see. My eyes aren't even open yet and I'm already stressed out.  How did he even find out I was back?  Did the hospital alert him? Are there already reports that the prodigal daughter has returned?  At this point I don't even care, I just want him to go.

_"Dad, she's waking up."_

_"I've got to go, just get it done."_  I opened my eyes to see that the sun was already high in the sky, my room completely washed in light.  As I finally took a look around, I was at least grateful to see Tommy seated beside the bed.

"Hey, stranger," He beamed, reaching for my hand.  "Long time no see." I smiled lightly, noticing he hadn't changed much since I'd been gone.

"Tommy," I greeted, squeezing his hand. "Wish it were under better circumstances."

"You're home now, that's all that matters." 

"Alexandra," I grimaced at my whole name as I heard my father fake relief as he rushed over, pressing a kiss to my forehead.  "You had us all scared."  I fought back the urge to cringe at his touch as he backed off.   

"Father," I greeted, any emotion void in my tone. "I see you're still doing well."

"Better now that my family is back together." His fake smile was beginning to make my stomach churn.

"Yeah," I dismissed, propping myself up higher in the uncomfortable hospital bed.  "So..." I turned my focus back to my older brother.  "What's new? Fill me in."

"Well, not much, really.  You're the only thing in the news right now." He chuckled.  "You should see the headlines.   _Merlyn returns to Starling City.  What's next for her?_  It's like they're trying to predict what you'll do now, not like it's any of their business."  So I was right; the reports are already coming in that I'm back.  And trying to predict what I do next? Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing once I get out of the hospital, other than finding my own place to live.  

Malcolm glanced at his phone as it began to buzz in his palm.  He glanced at the caller ID and sighed angrily, pressing another kiss to my forehead.  

"I've got to take this, I'm sorry princess." My nose crinkled in disgust again as he excused himself to the hall, closing the door to my room behind himself.

"Finally, fucking Christ." I groaned.

"What, him?" Tommy chuckled.  "He's just glad you're back in one piece, well, mostly, like the rest of us are."

"Dad's part of the reason I left, Tommy.  I don't want to see him.  I made that  _very_ clear when I left." I glared at his figure through the window as he paced in the hallway outside my room. 

"So he's not supposed to come and see how you're doing? You were  _blown up_ , Lexie. He's doing what any responsible parent would do." Tommy defended.

"You're defending him now? What happened to the whole 'I support you and your choices' talk before I left, bro? You can't seriously tell me you're on his side now." 

"I'm not, but I'm trying to get you to see things from his perspective."

"That's never going to happen," I spat.  "When do I get to go home? I'm sick of hospitals." 

"Way to change the subject," Tommy teased.

"I've been fighting since I left Starling. I'm sick of it." I shrugged.  "I want to get out of here and go find a place of my own."

"Why don't you just stay at home?" I shot my brother the iciest of glares as he burst out into laughter.  "You know I'm teasing.  If you want, I can go check real estate listings and come back in a while with some information."

"That would be amazing." He kissed my cheek as he got up and grabbed his coat off the back of the chair.  "And check with the nurses as to when I can leave.  I'm sick of being down."

"I'll do what I can, Lex."

"Thanks, Tommy." He smiled brightly from the door.

"See ya."

 

* * *

 

 

Hours passed as nurses came and went, checking machines and monitors, bringing me meals, and checking my wounds.  The bullet wound on my wrist was healing nicely as well as the burns to my right arm and thigh. Hopefully they'd release me soon enough.  My father had left shortly after Tommy without so much as a goodbye, leaving me in peace as I contemplated my next moves.  What would I do now that I was out of the military? I'm 26, I still have my life in front of me but I have no idea what I want to do.

A knock at the door brought me out of my thoughts as I beckoned the unknown visitor in.  To my surprise, Laurel Lance came walking in.  I hadn't seen her since her sister, Sara, and Oliver both had gone missing when Oliver's father's boat was shipwrecked.

"Hey," She softly greeted, setting a shopping bag on the bedside chair.  "Tommy mentioned you could use something to wear when you got released," She motioned to the bag.

"Thanks, Laurel," I smiled.  "That's awesome, really, you didn't have to."

"I wanted to," She said as she gently hugged me.  "It's good to have you back.  We've all missed you."

"Well I've missed you guys as well," I replied.  "Do you actually know where my brother is? He was supposed to be back by now."

"He's checking out apartments for you." She sat down on the edge of the bed.  "Said you didn't want to move back in with your dad, not that I blame you on that."

"He was supposed to bring me the listings, that asshole." I shook my head. 

"Gotta appreciate his tenacity, though," She pointed out. "He's just being a good big brother and making sure you have a place to go home to."

"My luck, he'll decorate and furnish it too," I snorted. "But you're right. He's an awesome brother." There was another knock at the door as yet another nurse came in, a stack of papers in hand.  "Please tell me those are discharge papers."

"You're right," She smiled as I read her name tag.  "Time to get you out of here, Ms. Merlyn.  Just sign here and then someone will be in to disconnect your IV lines and talk to you about wound care."

"Thanks, Ashley," I handed her back the papers, elated at the news.  "About fucking time!" Laurel chuckled at my ecstatic outburst.  "I'm sick of hospital beds."

"Well what are your plans after you're released?" She asked.  "I can take you to Tommy, or we can go get dinner or something."

"Dinner sounds amazing.  We should ask Tommy to join us." I suggested.

"Good idea, I'll just wait in the hall for you to get dressed, ok?"

"Sounds good, thanks again Laurel." I beamed.

"Any time, Lexie." 

 

Maybe life back home wouldn't be so bad.


	3. Chapter 3

For once, I was grateful for the clothing Laurel had provided.  Spared from her usual views on fashion, she brought me a comfy pair of black yoga pants that didn't apply additional pressure where my bandage sat, an appropriately sized sports bra, and a baggy grey 3/4 sleeve tee.  I changed as the nurse prepared a take home bag for me, complete with medicines, creams, and many packages of bandages for my various wounds.  Finally released, I joined Laurel in the hallway, ready to eat a real meal for the first time in weeks.

 

"So, what are you in the mood for?" She teased, leading me towards the elevator.  In the past 6 years, Starling General had changed drastically; I was at a loss for navigation.

 

"Anything, really," I shrugged. "I've been eating crap for six years.  It's time I got some normal food."

 

"Good to know," She chuckled, texting away on her phone.  "Let's just let Tommy pick.  It's his treat after all."

 

"Sounds good," I shrugged.  We exited the elevator, and for the first time in a long while, I freely walked out of an institution and into society as a person with free will.  I stood still for a moment, looking around, taking it all in.  People everywhere, rushing to get to their next destination.  Traffic backed up for blocks.  Everyone plugged in; MP3 players, phones, all of it.  And here I was, in the center of it.  It wasn't long before a few camera flashes and shouts brought me back to reality.

 

_"Miss Merlyn! How does it feel to back home in Starling City?"_

 

_"Alexandra, can we get a quote on how you're feeling?"_

 

_"How about a picture?"_ How in the world the paparazzi had figured out that I was to be released was beyond me, and I just stared them all down with a blank look on my face before Laurel stepped in.

 

"No comment," She stated, grasping me by the arm and gently leading me away from the annoying reporters and towards her car.  "You okay?" Laurel asked.  "I can't believe they're that desperate for attention."

 

"Yeah, yeah," I shook my head.  "I’m good.  Just haven't been a part of this for a long time.  Forgot what it feels like."  She gave me a sympathetic smile, ushering me towards her car.  "Sorry if I seem out of it, I didn't think adjusting back to civilian life could be like this."

 

"No need to apologize," She commented.  "I'll just turn on the radio and let you do your thing, how does that sound?"

 

"Thanks," I softly smiled.  "You've been so amazing today.  Thanks for sticking this out for my brother."

 

"Of course, what are friends for?" She beamed.  Laurel reached for the volume dial and I was suddenly surrounded by a new type of music I'd never experienced. Everything was so different now.  All bass and electronics, no real talent via guitar or vocals.  Yet somehow it was easy to lose myself in the chronic loops of sounds as I watched out the window, observing how much my hometown had changed in the time I was gone. 

 

I was vaguely aware of Laurel answering her phone, and the upset tones escaping from her lips but I couldn't focus on what she was talking about.  I was too in awe; the Glades had gotten worse, the Queen steel mill shut down.  People walked as if on edge, and everyone constantly checked their surroundings, as if afraid of being attacked at any given moment. Soon Laurel was dialing another number, annoyance clear in her tone as she continued her conversation.  Suddenly we were out of the Glades, on a path I well recognized that lead to my father's home.

 

"I'm so sorry, but I've got to head back to CNRI," Laurel complained.  "Tommy asked me to drop you off here and he said he'd pick you up in a bit."

 

"It's not your fault," I shrugged.  "Just hope the ass isn't home while I'm stuck here."

 

"You really don't like your father, huh?"  She quipped, brow raised in curiosity.

 

"Do you?" I quipped back.  She nodded a short response, seemingly in agreement with me. "Honestly I think the only people that do are the people he pays and Mrs. Queen."

 

"Yeah, I could see that," Laurel shrugged.  She pulled into the expansive driveway that lead to the Merlyn Compound.  "Again, I'm so sorry Lexie.  Girls day soon, though, okay?"

 

"Sure thing," I smiled, gathering my things from her floorboards.  "And thanks again for this afternoon."

 

"Any time," She smiled back.  As soon as I was up the stairs she pulled away, leaving me to enter the home of my childhood by myself.

 

"Well, shit." I sighed, hand on the knob.  I turned it slowly and quietly entered the front hall, greeted by an eerie silence of a house much too large for three inhabitants and various staff.  I set my bags on the table in the center of the foyer as I cautiously continued into the house.  It was much too quiet for my liking.  I'm used to chronic noise, be it talking, yelling, hell, even explosions and gunfire.

 

I made it to the formal living room and still hadn't run into anyone, no one working in the home, or even my father.  In fact, I took my time roaming around the house, seeing what changes had happened over my absence and nothing had changed.  Everything, including my bedroom, was exactly how it was when I left.  In about 45 minutes I had made it to the staircase that lead down to the front hall.  I could hear Tommy's voice; he was conversing with another man.  I recognized the voice, and my brain immediately shut the thoughts down.

 

_There's no way; he's been declared dead.  It can't be._   My heart raced as I raced down the stairs, eager to see why my brain felt like tricking me so viciously.  Tommy's guest had his back to me, and I watched his eyes dart in a mischievous grin between myself and his 'friend'.  _It can't be.  This isn't real._ This mysterious person was taller, had dark hair, and was dressed in jeans and a black pea coat. Soon he had turned around, and I found myself looking into the eyes of a man long presumed dead.

 

"Hey, Lexie," Oliver Queen grinned, hands stuffed into his jean pockets.  "Long time no see."

 

"Ollie," I gasped, looking between my brother's longtime partner in crime and Tommy himself. I quickly threw my arms around his neck, enveloping him in a tight hug.  His arms wrapped securely around my waist holding me against himself with as much force as I held him to my body.  We parted and I still couldn't believe he was home. My eyes immediately flickered to Tommy.  "And you never told me?!" I punched him in the arm.

 

"Hey, you were just shot and blown up.  It's not like you'd even remember!  You were so in and out of it when you first got back," Tommy defended. 

 

"So? You could've told me today!"

 

"How about we just go get dinner?" Oliver suggested, trying to end our brief argument. "I'm starving.  And apparently we both have a lot to catch up on."

 

"Fine by me," Tommy shrugged, fishing his keys from his pocket.  "Let's go.  I know this great sushi place…" Oliver held his arm out, allowing me to exit the house before himself, closing the door behind us.

 

"It's good to see you're okay," Oliver smiled lightly, both of us ignoring my brother's rant about some hibachi place he was taking us to.  "Tommy told me what happened in Afghanistan."

 

"Things happen in combat," I shrugged.  "I'm just glad to have made it home in one piece, physically speaking.  Even more glad to see you made it back to Starling.  I honestly thought you were gone."

 

"So did I, for a while.  Being stuck on an island for five years will do that to you." Ollie agreed.  "You know, if you ever need to talk…"

 

"Thanks." We shared a mutual smile, both slightly understanding what the other had gone through. Tommy had already gotten into the car and Oliver opened the passenger door for me.  We shared a brief smile as I slid in, watching him close the door behind me before piling into the backseat.

 

"I hope you both are as hungry as you say," Tommy teased.  Oliver and I shared a look through the rearview mirror.  _Yeah, things are definitely different.  This is gonna take some adjusting._


	4. Chapter 4

Tommy dominated the entire dinner conversation, trying to catch both Oliver and I up with what has been happening in everyone's lives since I left for the Middle East and he'd been shipwrecked on an island named Lian Yu. But I couldn't help but keep looking at Oliver. 

 

I was certain he was gone, lost to us forever.  The only time I ever took leave was when he first went missing to join Tommy in Hong Kong, trying to help him find Oliver.  Our searches turned up absolute shit, and I left Tommy broken hearted at the airport as he headed back stateside and I back to my unit in Iraq.  It's a memory I'd never be able to shake; my brother was heartbroken and I was too stubborn to be there for him in his time of need.  I focused those same emotions into doing my job effectively, defending my fellow soldiers against the enemies we'd sworn to fight.  And Tommy was left all alone to grieve the loss of our closest friend on his own.

 

"Hello, Earth to Alex!  Come in Alex!" Tommy teased, waving his hand in front of my face.  "You in there, sis?"

 

"Yeah," I shook my head with an embarrassed smile.  "Sorry, still adjusting to this whole thing."

 

"The 'Oliver's Alive' part or the 'Back Home' part?" He teased.

 

"Both?" I shrugged. 

 

"Now, as I was saying, there's three places for sure that I think would be good for you, so we can go check them out tomorrow.  Two come fully furnished, one doesn't, so there's that aspect too." Tommy began explaining.  "I thought we could schedule viewings for after Oliver's court hearing tomorrow?"

 

"Court hearing?" I questioned, glancing as Oliver shyly smiled.

 

"I have to go to this silly hearing to prove I'm alive and well so they'll reverse the whole 'declared dead' thing." He explained.  "It's just a formality."

 

"Seems kind of ridiculous," I said, taking a drink of my sakè.  "But sure, that works for me."

 

"Good." Tommy seemed pleased.  "Now, I hope you both enjoy what I ordered for us.  I tried it this one time…."

 

 

Dinner continued much in the same manner, my brother dominating the conversation as Oliver and I added our two cents in at the appropriate time.  Tommy was all too eager to fill us in on the adventures he'd been on since we'd been gone; however most of these so called adventures were really just tales of him involved with many different women.  What Tommy failed to realize, and I seemed to see, is that the time Ollie spent away changed him, transformed him.  Even though he showed an interest in Tommy's stories, I could tell it was a fallacy.  He was feigning the feeling, that the Oliver we got back wasn't the Oliver we'd lost.

 

"Oh!" Tommy exclaimed.  "I have something for you," He smiled, pulling a rather thin box from inside his suit jacket.  He slid the box across the table to me with an eager grin on his face.  I opened it up, confused to what it was.

 

"Thanks…? What is it?" I asked, gingerly plucking the thin, iPod resembling item from the box.

 

"It's a smart phone, a new, modern cell phone," Tommy explained.  "It has the same number you had before you left, I made sure of it.  I also had everything from your dumb phone-- your old phone-- transferred on to this one.  All your pictures, music, everything is now on there."

 

"How do I turn it on?" I asked.  Tommy plucked it from my hands; I'd done my best to ignore the tech advances society had made while I was gone.  It wasn't worth my time or effort.  Tommy held a small button on the side of the device and it slowly powered up, showing that the background was a picture of the three of us on the day I graduated high school.  "Oh god," I grimaced.  "Revenge of the ancient photographs."

 

"That's the beauty of having this thing, watch," Tommy beamed.  He stopped a waitress passing by and handed her the phone, forcing Oliver to join him beside me for a photograph.  We all stood, myself in the middle, arms around both men as she snapped a few photographs and handed the phone back to Tommy.  He quickly messed with the phone before handing it back to me, a new wallpaper of the three of us as we currently are.

 

"Thanks," I smiled.  "Gonna have to get used to this."

 

"Trust me, I know," Oliver teased.  "So what are your plans now that you're back in Starling?"

 

"Honestly, I'm not sure." I sighed.  "I need to find a new career.  I was thinking police work, or maybe working in the private sector, doing like body guard work or something."

 

"You could always go back to school to finish that degree in music," Tommy suggested.

 

"Eh, maybe, but that's pretty low on the list of priorities at the moment.  First things first, I gotta find a place to live.  I can't stand having to be at home right now." I explained. 

 

We finished our meal pretty soon after, and while Tommy was settling up the bill, Oliver and I headed outside to get some fresh air.  At first we were both comfortable with the silence between us, but then I heard him slightly chuckle to himself.

 

"You know, my mother got me a body guard.  I mean, I've been back about the same amount of time as you and she hired a body guard to come with me everywhere." He smiled lightly.

 

"Don't tell me she hired Tommy.  Terrible decision." I snorted.

 

"No, not Tommy," He laughed too.  "A man named Diggle.  No nonsense guy, really."

 

"So where is Mr. Diggle?" I quipped, brow raised.

 

"Let's just say I'm not one to need a body guard." Oliver replied.

 

"You gave him the slip?" I gawked.  "Look at you, still as sly as ever." I lightly tapped him in the arm as a mysterious buzzing came from the new cell phone in my hands.  It was vibrating in my palm with the little phone sign, and a number I didn't know flashed on the screen.  "How do I…?" Oliver ran his thumb across the symbol on the screen and it changed.  He motioned for me to press it to my ear.  "What?" He grabbed the phone from me and held it to my ear.  "Oh." I took the phone from him.  "Hello?"

 

_"Alex? Alexandra Merlyn?"_

 

"Yes?" I questioned, watching Oliver's face contort in confusion.

 

 _"Hey, it's.. uh.. You probably don't remember me.  My name is Dean, Dean Winchester."_ I nearly dropped the phone.  Instead I pulled it down and hit the red button on the phone screen, sighing in relief to see it had finished the call. 

 

"Who was it?" Oliver asked.

 

"Wrong number," I quickly lied.  Oliver sensed that I wasn't being entirely truthful with him, but before he could question it, Tommy came bounding out of the restaurant. 

 

"Alright, let's get everyone home." He beamed.  "Long day tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 5

To say he was surprised didn't even encompass how Dean felt.  He had no idea that Alex had even joined the military, let alone willing went on three tours to Iraq and Afghanistan.  Then again, Dean didn't know much about her life to begin with.  She was just some hot, rich girl he happened to bond with really well.  But for some reason, that girl had gotten under his skin six years ago and he still hadn't figured out why.  She was the first person he told the truth to about his work, about what his family did.  And she scoffed, kicked him out of her life.  Hell, he was leaving to begin with but they ended on such bad terms that Dean didn't know if he'd ever really resolved how he'd felt about it.

 

And now he was seeing her on every news channel this motel had available.  Sam was fast asleep in the bed beside his own, and Dean couldn't escape images of Alexandra Merlyn no matter what channel he changed to. News of her brush with death spread like wildfire.  People came out of the woodwork, claiming they'd been friends with her for years, just to get a taste of the media circus surrounding her return to high society.  It sickened Dean to a degree to watch morons try and profit off the fact that Alex went off to serve her country in the best way she thought possible.

 

Dean sat up on the edge of the bed, watching the earlier reports, as she exited the local hospital with another tall, blond woman.  The paparazzi and reporters swarmed around her and she froze.  His eyes glued to the screen, he couldn't believe how much she'd changed, but at the same time what he saw was familiar.  Her dark hair fell to the middle of her back, definitely longer since they'd last seen each other.  Her bright, playful eyes seemed darker, but Dean chalked it up to what she'd spent the past six years doing.  Her face was void of a smile as people badgered her with questions.

 

Eventually the other woman grabbed her gently by the arm, tugging her away.

 

 _"No comment."_  He heard the woman mutter before leading Alex to a car, climbing in herself, and driving away.  Vaguely, Dean wondered if she'd become a lesbian since he left Starling City.  Nah, he decided, remembering their time together.  Couldn't be.  He turned the television off and flopped back onto the pillows, still unable to fall asleep.  He fished around on the nightstand for his cell phone, flipping it open to view his contacts.  Her number was still in there, assuming it was still her number.  And given her new background in military operations, she might be just what he and Sammy needed to find their father. 

 

Dean's thumb hovered over the send button, unsure of if he should even try to call Alex.  She'd made it very clear not to contact her when he left to join his father on a hunt.  But now his father was gone, vanished.  He dragged Sam away from Stanford to follow the bare trail of breadcrumbs John had left them and they were almost out of leads.  Dean was at a loss for what to do next, and all he could think of was asking Alexandra to help him. 

 

He slipped his phone back into his jean pocket as he sat at the edge of the bed, gingerly slipping his feet into his boots.  He'd slip out of the room, give her a call outside, in case it ended in an argument so they wouldn't wake Sam up.  He quietly closed the motel room door behind himself, tucking the key in his jacket pocket before walking towards the main office, hand on his phone.  When he finally got up the courage to dial her number, Dean let it ring once and then immediately hung up.  _There's no way she'll even agree to this_ , he thought.  _I'm not even sure she'll have the same number from before.  Talk about putting all my eggs in one basket._ He sat on a bench just outside the office, twirling his phone in his palms, trying to decide on what to do.  _Fuck it, it's worth a shot._

 

Dean dialed Alex's number again, listening to it ring about four times before it finally connected.

 

 _"What?"_ He heard faintly.  He then heard the phone fumble about, hearing someone's breath. _"Oh."_ Well, it certainly sounded like Alex.  _"Hello?"_

 

"Alex?" Dean questioned in disbelief.  His heart was pounding in his chest.  Was it really her?  "Alexandra Merlyn?"

 

 _"Yes?"_ So it **was** her.

 

"Hey, it's… uh…" He was suddenly at a loss for words.  "You probably don't remember me.  My name is Dean.  Dean Winchester." Suddenly the line went dead.  _Oh yeah, she remembers._ Dean frowned, tucking the phone into his pocket.  He quietly slipped back into the room he was sharing with his little brother and back into bed, tossing the phone haphazardly on the nightstand.  _She just got back home, maybe this wasn't the best time to call_ , he told himself.  He vowed to try again later, perhaps in person, where she couldn't ignore him.  Yeah, that sounded good.  _Buckle up, Sammy, we're heading to the big city._


	6. Chapter 6

"I don't get it, Dean," Sam sighed from beside his brother in the front seat of his car. "If you haven't seen this girl or talked to her in six years, why are we even going to Starling City?"

"Because I think she can help us find Dad, that's why," Dean growled, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

"Why? Because she spent time overseas?" Sam's eyes narrowed on his older brother. "Even if she can, why would she want to help us?"

"It's just wishful thinking, Sammy."

"Wishful thinking? We're going half way across the country for wishful thinking?"

"Yeah, ok?!" Dean roared. He'd had enough of playing twenty questions with his brother. After a short silence and observing his brother's reactions, Sam's lips twisted into a sly smirk.

"You like her," He stated. "That's why we're going to Starling City, isn't it?"

"What? No!" Dean was too quick in his defense of his actions; Sam was able to see right through it.

"You do," He mused. "What makes her so important?" Dean pursed his lips, remaining silent. "You had a relationship with her, didn’t you?" He questioned.

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean yelled.

"She was your girlfriend, wasn't she?. That explains why it's been so long since you've seen her and why you don't want to talk about it."

"Alright, yeah, I did," Dean groaned. "You happy now?"

"So you want to ask your ex-girlfriend for help finding Dad?" Sam scoffed.  "Call me pessimistic, but this seems like a horrible idea."

"Look, she's probably just gonna slam the door in my face, but we're out of options," Dean gruffly explained. "I have to at least try."

"Why would she slam the door in your face, Dean?" Sam's face squished in confusion.

"Cuz dad's kinda the reason we broke up." Dean winced as he admitted, remembering clearly the night John Winchester unexpectedly showed up to reclaim his hold over his son. Sam's eyes grew wide in surprise. "We'd finished a hunt in nearby Central City and he left to find work, so I decided to check out Starling City. I ended up running into Alex one night and things just kinda happened. After about a month Dad just showed up, out of the blue. He wiped the floor with me, made me pack up, and hit the road again."

"No wonder she hung up on you," Sam snorted.

"Sammy, I told her what we do." Dean's eyes narrowed in a serious gaze, voice low.

"You told her about the family business?!" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You broke Dad's number one rule?! Seriously?!"

"Yes, I did, okay?!" Dean yelled. "It was stupid, it was foolish, but I thought what we had… I thought I was in…. Fuck it. It doesn't even matter now."

"You loved her," Sam finished his brother's sentence, completely amazed. "So you told her the truth."

"Yeah, and look where it got me," Dean glared at his brother. "It doesn’t even matter anymore, ok? I left, she hates me, end of story." Dean had enough of this conversation and pushed the tape back into the player and let the sweet tunes of Kansas fill the cab.  He needed some quiet time.

* * *

 

I looked in the mirror and hardly recognized myself. For so long now, I'd been in uniform, my hair pulled tight in a bun with a helmet on my head, and plenty of protective gear and loaded up with anything I could possibly need in the field. Now my hair was down, styled in loose curls that flowed down my back. I was in a tight, curve accentuating black dress courtesy of Tommy taking liberty to shop for me, with a matching pair of three inch, peep toed heels. He had the foresight to pick out a matching professional style blazer to cover the bandages on my arms.

I spent an hour trying to apply makeup with no real luck; I'd washed it away at least four times when I couldn't get it right. I'd decided just to stick to eyeliner and mascara and save myself the trouble of looking like a clown. I sighed, turning several times in the full length mirror as I kept eyeing myself. _It feels like such a lie. This isn't who I am. Then again, jeans and a basic shirt aren't really appropriate court attire. Ugh._ There was a gentle knock on my door, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I hollered, slightly annoyed to see Tommy walk in, two different ties in hand.

"Help me?" He beamed goofily. "I don't know which to wear."

"I don't care which one you wear. I'm busy trying to convince myself I don't look like a freak." I groaned.

"You look beautiful," Tommy reinforced. "You'd never look like a freak, Lexie. Ever. Now help me pick a tie."

"I said no." I protested.

"It's not every day your best friend comes back from the dead--well, legally speaking-- and I need to wear the right tie and I don't know which to pick. Help your big brother out, please?" He pleaded, giving me his most sympathetic look.

"Well, if you wear a dark color, it's like you're still in mourning and this is supposed to be a good thing," I replied. "Go get a bright blue or a purple or something. Not grey or black." Tommy pressed a light kiss to my cheek.

"This is why you're the best, Lex." He beamed as he headed back to search for a different accessory. "Meet down in the hall in five!" I grasped the Coach clutch he'd also purchased for me, and checked to see my military ID and debit card tucked safely inside, along with the new telephone he'd given me yesterday. With a final glance and a deep breath, I smoothed the skirt of my dress and tucked the clutch under my arm. _You've got this. Just ignore the cameras and reporters. You're going to support Oliver_. " _Lex! We're_ _gonna be late!_ " Tommy shouted from below.

"Coming! Jeez," I muttered, exiting the room and turning off the light behind me.   _Here goes nothing._


	7. Chapter 7

Dean drove straight through the night, reaching Sterling City sometime around 2am.  He pulled into a cheap motel towards the outskirts of town, woke Sam up, and carried his things into the room he'd rented for them.  He watched Sam as he set his belongings down and plopped onto the bed, falling back asleep in a matter of minutes.

 

 _Lucky bastard,_ Dean thought to himself.  It'd be hours before Dean felt the need to sleep, and even when he did, he didn't sleep for long.  Four or five hours was the most he'd ever get, especially as of late.  He couldn't stop his mind from racing, thoughts of Alexandra Merlyn dancing through his head.  Memories of the time they'd spent together blended with his ideas of how their first meeting in years would play out.  Would she miss him? Or would she punch him square in the jaw? Perhaps she'd run the other way, or not even recognize him.

 

Dean flipped the television on, hoping to find something mundane to lull him to sleep.  The first channel that showed was the local news; some rich kid was back from being lost on an undiscovered island and had to go to court in the morning to get himself undeclared dead. Dean looked at the screen, completely disinterested in the report.  It wasn't until the name flashed on the screen that it caught his attention.  _Oliver Queen… Oliver… wasn't that Alex's brother's friend?_ Dean watched as an image of Alex-- the Alex he'd seen the previous night-- walked with her brother and this Oliver Queen into a restaurant.  Oliver's arm was pressed against Alex's lower back as they entered the establishment and for some reason that made Dean's blood boil.  _She's not yours anymore,_ He reminded himself.  _She's free to do as she pleases._   He turned off the television and laid back into the bed, arms crossed over his chest.  Now seemed as good a time as ever to catch some sleep, and he knew exactly where to find Alex in the morning.  She couldn't just ignore him in public, could she?

* * *

 

Tommy parked the car a few blocks from the court house and we walked the remainder of the way, my arm nestled securely in the crook of his elbow.  Even from this distance I could see the various paparazzi and reports looming by the steps, eager for the chance to snag any piece of juicy gossip they could publish.  It annoyed me to no end; Oliver had been through enough, being trapped on an island that no one knew existed for five years.  He didn't need this on top of it all.  And now that I was home too, they were even more frenzied, still thinking of us as the reckless young adults we once were.  Gone were the days of late night partying and scandalous promiscuity.  We'd all changed… _well, maybe all of us._ I glanced up at Tommy to see him beaming brightly as we approached our destination. 

 

 _"Mr. Merlyn! Ms. Merlyn!"_ The screams began as we crossed the street.  My grip on Tommy's arm increased as my anxiety and disdain to enter the building quietly escalated.  Tommy felt the squeeze and patted my hand with his free one as he bent close to my ear.

 

"Relax, just breathe.  Ignore them," He spoke soft and calm, trying to ease my nerves.

 

 _"Just one picture!  Please?!"_ The reporters and photographers kept up their persistence as we maneuvered our way through.  I kept my eyes trained to the steps to do my best to ignore them.  This wasn't the life I wanted, constantly in the eyes of the public.  Every time I left my house, I shouldn't make the front page news. But when your father is one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the city, it's bound to happen. Soon enough we reached the top of the stairs and police had begun to usher the relentless crowd back to the sidewalk, away from the courthouse entrance.

 

"See?" Tommy smiled brightly, unhooking my arm from his own.  "Nothing to get worked up about."

 

"Easy for you to say," I grumbled.  "Being away from it for as long as I was, I got used to a certain kind of normalcy."  Tommy shook his head, pulling his cellphone from his inner suit pocket. I took the quiet moment to reflect, eyes constantly scanning the street, something from my time in the military that I don't think will ever really go away.  Briefly memorizing every face, looking for any sign of a threat to my brother's or my safety.  I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself.  _This isn't Afghanistan, or Iraq.  You're safe here.  You're home now._ The need to remind myself that that part of my life was over kept me grounded, at least for the moment being.

 

And that's when I saw _him_. At least, I _think_ it's him.  Flannel shirt open, sleeves rolled up, over a dark tee.  Worn jeans, work boots, and dark, short hair.  A man with an unmistakable stance. _It can't be…._ I thought, _can it?_ The harder I looked, the more I was certain that Dean Winchester was across the street, leaning on a brick building with his hands in his pockets as he watched me. 

 

"Hello, Earth to Lexie! Come in Lexie!" Tommy called, waving his hand in front of my face, bringing my attention back to him.  "You okay?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," I quickly spoke, glancing back to the street.  "It's just--"  _He's not there.  Maybe he never was?_ "Nothing," I finished, letting Tommy gently lead me by the elbow inside the courthouse.

 

"Well then come on," He gently prodded.  "Can't be late!" I nodded a silent agreement as we entered the building, my thoughts still stuck on the invisible man from the corner.  _Maybe I'm just seeing things._


	8. Chapter 8

Everything for Oliver's hearing went off as smooth as possible, and we were in and out in record time.  Oliver briefly talked with us before rushing off with his mother and step-father for home, claiming to need some rest after such an important event.  Tommy was a little bummed, but I understood.  I've only been back in the city for about 72 hours and I'm already struggling to adapt to the rapid changes around me.

 

Tommy had suggested we grab lunch, and after a quick stop at a little café, we were back on the road to home.  My anxiety peaked again as we got closer; I hated this house, even well before I left to serve.  Now it was just a temporary place of residence until I found a home of my own.  The idea of my father and I being under the same roof was oddly unnerving.  After our mother died, he was never the same.  He disappeared for a long while, and even after he came back he wasn't the same man.  I could never put my finger on it, but there was something about him that just wasn't right.

 

"I've got some stuff I've gotta get done, so I'll see you later tonight," Tommy said as he parked in the drive in front of the doors.

 

"If you're house hunting for me again, just let me come with," I begged.  "Please, Tommy, come on."

 

"He's not even home," Tommy huffed.  "It's," He checked his watch.  "One in the afternoon.  He won't be back until eight, at the very earliest.  You'll be fine."

 

"If you come home and I'm in a foul mood, you'll know why," I grumbled, hand on the door latch.  "Can you at least tell me what it is that you're doing? Maybe I'd like to come."

 

"Nope," He slyly smiled.  "It's a secret."

 

"You're going to get laid? My anguish is less important than your dick?" I scoffed.  Tommy burst into a full, hearty laugh. 

 

"No, Lex, I'm not going to get laid.  I promise, you'll see later, but for now I _really_ gotta get going, so out you get," He ushered. 

 

"Fine," I groaned, exiting the car.  "I guess I'll see you later."  Tommy zipped off and I entered the large, quiet home by myself.  A maid greeted me at the door-- one I didn't recognize ( _Dad must've gotten some new help in the past five years_ ), but I dismissed her and headed up the large staircase to my old room.  I locked the door behind myself and immediately peeled out of the dress and heels Tommy had graciously bought for me and slipped into an old pair of sweats and sports bra, flopping on to the bed.  A nap sounded like a great way to pass the time and hopefully avoid my father should he come home early from work.  I wasn't even on the bed for five minutes and I slipped into a light, refreshing sleep.

* * *

 

 

_I look down to see my hand tucked in someone else's.  We're in the ruins of a building in the desert, gunfire hailing all around. People are screaming.  I hear American soldiers yelling out orders, asking for help.  In the distance, a woman wails and the sound of a bomb going off.  I follow the hand up and suddenly I'm looking in Dean's eyes; they're wide, fear plastered to his face._

 

_"Dean?"_

 

_"We need to get out of here, now," He urges.  "This place is about to come down around us.  I think we can make it over there safely if we run fast enough." He points to a building about 300 yards away._

 

_"We'll never clear it," I shake my head.  "We need to find another way."_

 

_"It's the only way," He urges.  "Look around you." I do as I'm told and he's right; we're literally trapped on all sides.  Forward is the only way out.  "I'm going to count to three, when I do, we get up and run, as fast as you can.  Don't let go of my hand."_

 

_"Okay."_

 

_"Promise me, Alex," His tone is more forceful as he grabs my face and forces me to look him in the eye.  "Promise me you won't let go."_

 

_"I promise," I agree.  He begins his count; one.  My heart starts to race in anticipation of what's about to transpire.  Two. I get up on my feet, crouched low, hand still in his.  Three.  We're gone, running as hard as we can, desperately trying to race across the clearing unscathed by the gunfire and explosions that surround us.  His hand has a death grip around my own, and I can barely keep up with his pace.  My eyes are glued on the building across from us, it's about 200 yards away now.  We keep going, pushing ourselves as hard as we can, and then there's a weight pulling me down and Dean's hand is suddenly gone from mine.  He hits his knees and his hands reach for his lower left side, blood starting to pool between his fingers and spill over.  I crouch down, scooping him by the elbows and dragging him back up.  I plead with him, begging him to keep going as I try and get him to come along with me._

 

_A pain rips through my right thigh and I momentarily dip before I keep running.  We have to make it, there's no time to stop. An explosion takes place just feet from us, sending rock and concrete flying our way.  I ignore the hail of debris and keep pushing Dean forward; we're about 50 yards away, safety is within reach.  Nothing can stop us.  Another pain rips through my right forearm and I do my best to ignore the sight of my own blood flowing from the hole I see._

 

_"We're almost there," I coax, pushing Dean towards the edge of the building.  He stumbles over the threshold, collapsing into the first covered corner he finds.  The gunshot wound on his abdomen is soaked through with his blood, and he's losing color in his face.  His eyes are fearful as he looks from the wound, to me, and back again as I collapse beside him.  "It's gonna be okay," I try to assure him, reaching for the pack on my back.  "I can fix this." The pack isn't there.  I reach again, and feel nothing but air.  I look down, to see I'm dressed in only grey sweatpants and a sports bra.  "This isn't right, where's my gear?!" I panic.  Dean's eyes grow even wider as he reaches for my shoulder._

 

 _"Alex!" I hear the footsteps behind me and a pistol cocked. I smile weakly at him as the sound of the trigger pull rings through the air._  

* * *

I'm startled awake by loud banging on my bedroom door, completely jumping off the bed in fright.  My heart is racing a million miles a minute as I struggle to catch my breath.  _What the fuck was that?_ I ponder the dream I just had only a moment, before running my fingers through my hair to smooth it out.  After a few deep, calming breaths, I pace to the door and unlock it to see the maid from earlier with a nervous look on her face.

 

"Sorry, I was sleeping," I apologized, not knowing how long she'd been up here trying to wake me.

 

"There's a visitor in the lounge for you, Miss Merlyn." She sheepishly answered.  "I told him you were busy, but he insisted on staying.  I apologize for waking you."

 

"No, don't," I smiled lightly.  _You saved me from one hell of a nightmare._ "I'll be down in a minute." She nodded and scurried off before I could even blink.  _What kind of people do you hire, Dad? Jeez._ I went back to the nightstand to check my cellphone and saw no new messages or missed calls, and saw that it was now around 8:30 PM.  _That was one hell of a nap._ I set the phone back down and headed downstairs, trying to figure out who it could be waiting to see me, especially at this time.  Oliver was probably at home, and Lord knows where Tommy ran off to.

 

The doors to the lounge were closed and I took a deep breath before placing my hand on the knob.  I opened the door quietly, wondering who could possibly be on the other side of the solid oak. 

 

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I began as I entered the room.  A tall figure in plaid and dark jeans turned around to face me, an awkward smile playing upon his lips. 

 

"Hey, Alex, long time no see."

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

I was dumbfounded.  I was certain that Dean was just a hallucination, something I made up to justify my actions earlier this morning at the courthouse.  But here he was, in the flesh.  There's no way I made up my father's hired help coming to wake me up to tell me someone was down here.  It simply wasn't possible. I couldn't find the words, but a world of emotions charged through me all at once.  Anger, betrayal, years of pent up hurt, all of it came flooding to the surface as I stood silently, staring down the man that stood before me.

"So, you going to say anything?" He asked, trying to prod a conversation out of me.

"Why?" My voice was quiet, trying to contain the flood eager to burst through.

"What?" He questioned.

"Why," I repeated.  "Are _you_ here?" I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.  "I told you never to come back here."

"I know, I know," Dean pleaded, hands up in defense. "But this is really important, Alex.  You know I wouldn't come back unless I needed to." 

"Needed to?" I scoffed.  "You _lied_ to me.  You **ran off** with Daddy to go 'hunt ghosts', or whatever it is you two do." I used air quotes.  "What in the hell could be so damned important that you had to come back?" 

"I'll get to that, I promise," Dean spoke softly, trying to calm me as my agitation grew.  "But first, can't we catch up a little?" He motioned to the bandages on my arms.  "You've been busy since I left."

"Yeah, I joined the Army, got shot at, witnessed friends die, and got hurt and discharged.  What's new with you?" I sarcastically replied.  

"I've been trying to find my dad," Dean admitted.  "Sammy and I, we've been trying to track him down but we're out of leads." 

"And that's why you're here, isn't it?" I growled.  "You want _my help_ to find the man who broke into _my house_ and scared the people who work here?" Dean shrugged.  "Oh, that's rich.  You think that because I'm former-military I have someone who can help you find him.  Wow.  That's low."

"Oh really?" He challenged. 

"Yeah, here I was thinking you were finally going to tell me the truth about why you left, maybe come to see if I'm okay, cuz maybe, **maybe** , you really cared about me at one point, but you just want to use me?  Wow, Dean.  Wow." I was surprised that those words even left my mouth.  Truth be told, I hadn't really thought of him at all after I'd left Starling to go to basic training.  But here it was, spewing out like a volcano.

"I _did_ tell you the truth when I left, Alex," Dean argued. "I knew you wouldn't believe me, but it was all the goddamned truth.  Every single bit of it."

"Yeah, like I'm supposed to believe that ghosts and all these other mythological creatures are real and need vanquishing," I scoffed.  "And lemme guess, your dick of a father went off on his own and then went missing and you’re trying to find the big ol' baddie that might have took him to get him back?"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you in the first place," Dean growled back.  "I knew you wouldn't understand, I knew you wouldn't believe it."

"Why do you even want to find him anyways? He wasn't even good to you, Dean." I argued.

"Neither was your father," He shot back.

"No, I and I wouldn't dream of trying to defend mine, but at least I didn't grow up to believe in shit that isn't real," My voice was filled with rage.

"You wouldn't know, you grew up in a life of privilege," Dean shouted.  "Anything and everything you've ever wanted you had."

"Sure, throw that in there, make me out to be some spoiled little rich bitch." I shook my head.  "When you _know_ , you've _seen_ how little that mattered to me."  There was a knock at the door before it cracked open and Oliver poked his head in the room.

  
"Hey, am I interrupting anything?" He asked before stepping inside, a garment bag slung over his shoulder and another department store bag in his hand. 

"No, he was just leaving," I glowered at Dean.

"This conversation isn't over," He pointed at me angrily before eyeing Oliver. 

"We'll see," I growled back, watching him look between me and Oliver a few times before taking his leave.  He slammed the lounge doors behind him and I let out a loud sigh, collapsing on the couch.  "Jesus fucking Christ."

"Wasn't that the guy you dated right before…?" Oliver let his question hang in the air, unfinished.

"Yeah," I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut and running my hands over my face.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't that end badly before?" Oliver draped the bags over the opposite couch before sitting beside me 

"Yeah, it went to hell in a handbasket real quick," I sighed.  I flopped over, resting my head on his shoulder like I used to when we were kids. "He said he needs my help with something." 

"With what?" Oliver asked, putting his arm around my shoulders, lightly squeezing me closer. 

"Dunno, we started arguing before I could get a real answer to that," I answered.  "I'm not even back a week and the shit storm has already begun.  Yippee." I spun my finger in the air unenthusiastically, making Oliver chuckle. 

"Then I guess this isn't the best time to tell you that _those_ ," He pointed to the bags across the room.  "Are for you.  Tommy asked that you put them on and then I take you somewhere." 

"Oh God, noooooo." I groaned.  "Please no." 

"I think his exact words were 'I don't care if you have to dress her, get here down here'," Oliver air quoted. 

"So there's no getting out of this?" I pleaded. 

"Nope." 

"Fuck me," I groaned, getting up off the couch.  "Alright, give me a minute.  You're more than welcome to come up with me and wait in my room."

"I almost forgot your room was like a little apartment suite," Oliver joked. 

"Do you know what he's planning?" I asked as I gathered the bags.

"Yup."

"You gonna tell me?"

"Can't, he made me promise on your life." Oliver smiled sympathetically.

"Fuck."


	10. Chapter 10

Dean sat seething in his car as he drove away from Alex's.  The last thing he wanted to do was argue with her, and he suddenly found himself regretting some of the things he'd said.

_"You wouldn't know, you grew up in a life of privilege!"_ That stung worse than when she walked out on him when he tried to tell her the truth all those years ago.  Even though their backgrounds couldn't be more different, Dean knew they held some similarities in their lives.  Both grew up without mothers and somewhat absentee fathers.  But while he had to keep an eye on Sam as they grew up, Alex had maids and nannies and the Queens to look after both her and her brother. 

This evening wasn't supposed to go like this, at least, that's what Dean had hoped.  He wanted to keep calm, simply explain that his dad up and vanished and that neither he or Sam have had any luck finding him.  He was hoping to pleadingly ask her if there was anything she could do to help, seeing as their father was a Marine and she had just left the Army.  She probably would say no, possibly even punch him, but they were never supposed to argue so bitterly, slinging their hatred for the situation back and forth in nasty digs at one another.

Dean soon arrived back at the motel and stomped through the door, slamming it behind himself and heading straight for the whiskey bottle sitting on the nightstand across the room.

"That's an awfully long time to be gone for coffee," Sam muttered, watching his brother flop on the bed and pull the cork out of the bottle.  "Especially to come back without it."

"Does it look like I went for coffee?" Dean snapped, taking a rather large pull off the bottle.

"You went to see her," Sam realized, tone changing from chastising to concern.

"Yeah, I fucking went to see her.  And all we did was argue.  Didn't even get to ask her to see if she could help." Dean took another pull before reaching for the television remote.  Sam didn't know what to say, instead grabbing the stack of papers beside his laptop.  He walked across the room and tossed them beside his brother before sitting on his own bed across from him.  "What's this?" 

"You're not going to believe this, but I think there's a case here," Sam explained.  "A bunch of people here, in Central City, and in between have been found around every new moon, exsanguinated and missing their hearts.  Dates back a few years."

"Lemme guess, we're right about to have a full moon too," Dean sarcastically groaned.

"Yup," Sam confirmed.  "And if the pattern is correct, it's going to strike here in Starling City first."

"Alright, let's get to work, Sammy _."  Maybe, just maybe,_ Dean hoped _.  This could be the proof I need to show Alex to get her to help me._

* * *

 

"I am **not** wearing this," I groaned, looking at myself in the triple mirror.

"It can't be that bad," Oliver laughed from the other room.  "He's got me wearing a black suit with a grey shirt and matching tie."

"I look like a hoochie.  Like a straight up hoe." I complained.  "This is terrible."  I heard Oliver's footsteps grow closer until he opened the door to the bathroom and dressing area, leaning on the frame and looking in.  His eyes lit up, but I couldn't tell if he was amused, agreed with me, or if was something else.  His time on the island had made him hard to read. 

Tommy picked out a rather short black dress with a halter style top that stopped almost 3 inches above my knees.  There were three large, triangle shaped cut outs going down each side, and the dress had a satin sheen to it.  Pair that with the sky high black heels with a strap for around my ankle and one for around the top of my foot, I looked like I was trying to get men to fawn all over me.

"You don't look like a hussie," Oliver snickered.  "Trust me, that's better than the one he was originally going to buy."

"Ollie, I **can't** go out like this." I pleaded.  "Do something, he's your best friend!"

"He's **your** brother.  That trumps a friendship." Oliver rebutted.

"Ughhhhhh." I groaned.  "Fine, but I don't have to like it."

"It's not that bad, Lex," Oliver tried to calm me down.  "Really, it looks good on you.  Just ditch the mummy wraps and you're good to go." I glanced down at the bandages on my arms, glad that at least the bullet wound on my thigh was covered by the dress.  I cautiously unwrapped the gauze and removed the wraps, grimacing slightly at the healing burns that covered my lower arms.  They were healing really nicely, but there would definitely be some scarring.  Oliver noticed me staring at the marks that marred my skin and gently grasped my hands.

"I don't know what he's planned, and that makes me nervous," I admitted.  "This isn't who I am."

"Your scars don't define you, only you can do that." Oliver spoke softly.  "I know it's hard, adjusting back to a life you haven't been a part of in a long time.  But it's just for one night.  Just embrace whatever comes, and make those decisions later." I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a tight hug, the feeling of his arms wrapped around my waist bringing me comfort.  "And if you need anything, I'm here.  I get it."

"You're the best, Ollie," I sighed into his shoulder.  His grip on me loosened and we separated, and I tugged my dress down as far as it would go.  "Alright, let's go do this…whatever _this_ happens to be."  Oliver smiled warmly before tucking his arm in the small of my back to walk me out.  Waiting out front was one of the Queen family vehicles, with an African-American man waiting patiently by its doors, hands clasped at his waist.  I could immediately tell by his stance that he too had served in the military, and was probably now working security for the Queens. 

"All set, Mr. Queen?" He asked, stepping forward as we approached.

"Yes," Oliver responded.  "Diggle, this is Alexandra Merlyn, Tommy's sister.  Lexie, this is Diggle, my bodyguard."  Diggle reached forward to shake my hand, and I his.

"You have a _bodyguard_?" I snickered.

"My mother hired him after I got back," Oliver explained.

"Thank you for your service, Ms. Merlyn," Diggle spoke as we shook hands.  "Sorry to hear about your unit."

"You served as well?" I asked.

"Master Sergeant, served three tours," He explained. 

"Well, thank you as well," I smiled.  "And good luck keeping up with Oliver."  Diggle gave me a knowing look before opening the door for us to embark on our way to Tommy's mystery event. 


	11. Chapter 11

Diggle drove us to a location I didn't recognize, and the building itself was dark.  I wasn't sure what Tommy had planned here at the outskirts of the Glades, much less in a large, darkened building.  After parking, Diggle opened the back door for Oliver to exit, and Oliver extended his hand to help me out of the car.  I once again tugged down on the bottom of my dress, continuously praying it was longer as Oliver hooked his arm around mine.  He began to lead me to the front entrance of the building and I could feel my heart racing.  This whole ordeal was making my anxiety skyrocket, and I wasn't doing very well at hiding it.  Oliver paused at the front door before giving me a reassuring smile.

"Relax, you'll be okay." I nodded quickly, trying to convince myself of the same thing.  "And if you need air or anything, just come find me, alright? I promise you'll be okay."

"Last time you promised me something it was that you'd be back from your trip in time for my birthday," I reminded him.  He shot me playful glare.

"Then let me make it up to you," He offered.  "But we have to go inside first."

"Fine," I agreed.  "Let's go." Oliver tugged on the door and led me into a completely pitch black space.  Oliver still had a hold of my hand, which was slightly reassuring, but being unable to see anything was really unnerving.  Everything within me told me to go back, run the other way, and I could feel my body shaking.  Once the door closed I could sense Oliver beside me, still squeezing my hand to reassure me that everything would be alright.  Suddenly the lights all flickered on at once and I was standing before a mass of people.

 _"Welcome home Alexandra!"_ The expansive crowd all yelled at once, as confetti and balloons began to fall from the sky.  My hands flew to my mouth as I slightly crumbled with shock.  Tommy had planned a massive party to welcome me back in less than a day, and it looks like half the city had been invited.  I could see my brother beaming and clapping along with the crowd before me as Oliver smiled brightly beside me.  After a few moments passed, a DJ began spinning popular dance tunes and the crowd dispersed, leaving Tommy to greet us as he laughed and smiled.

"So?" He asked, motioning to the room around us.  "Do you like it?" I could tell he put a lot of effort into this, and even though it wasn't something I was really into anymore or expecting, the thought behind it all warmed me to my core.

"It's amazing, thank you!" I gushed, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug.  "You're really something else, Tommy."

"Only the best for my baby sis," He replied, squeezing me back before releasing his grip on me.  "Now, if you'll just excuse me for one moment," He dashed off into the center of the crowd, leaving Oliver and I to our own devices.

"I told you it would be okay," He chuckled as I lightly punched him in the arm. 

"You could've at least told me what it was, so I could've worn something a little less ridiculous!" I teased.  "You owe me."

"Are you starting a list now?" He joked back.  "Oliver did such-and-such thing on this day at this time and now he owes me XYZ?" 

"Yeah, and so far you owe me a hell of a lot," I sarcastically replied.  "And you can start by getting us a drink." He took me by the arm and led me into the crowd, relaxed and at ease, to join in the festivities my brother had planned.

* * *

 

 

Dean parked the Impala in the neighborhood Sam had located as being the area where almost all of the attacks occurred.  It was near the outskirts of town; all that was out here were a bunch of industrial buildings, some high rise office complexes, and a few nightclubs.  Dean thought the werewolf had no problems hunting at the clubs, getting his victims (he was assuming it was a man, all of the victims were women in their early to late twenties) to follow him out where he could then feast in the cover of night with no one being around to witness the attacks.

Sam followed Dean to the trunk where they began to load their pistols with silver bullets; the only thing known to kill a werewolf.  A shot to the heart was all it would take, assuming they could find the son-of-a-bitch responsible for the attacks.  Sam noticed how ornery Dean had been since his 'discussion' with Alexandra earlier that evening.  He'd never seen a girl get so under Dean's skin before; Dean was a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, not one to typically stick around.  There had to be something truly remarkable about this Merlyn girl to agitate his brother so deeply. 

"I'll take the west half, you go east," Dean gruffly ordered, tucking a silver knife into his belt.  "We'll cover more ground if we split up.  Yell or call if you find anything."  Sam simply nodded, not wanting to further anger his brother.  Right now it was best to do as he says, even if Sam felt it was a foolish plan.  "Meet back at the car in an hour if you don't find anything."  Without another word, Dean headed off towards the west, hell bent on finding and killing the person responsible for over 30 unsolved murders in the past three years. Surely a hunt would make him feel better, or so he thought.

* * *

 

 

The party was in full swing; people laughing, dancing, and drinking their night away.  Oliver and I sat quietly at the bar, taking it all in, watching Tommy mingle with all the random people who had managed to make it here to welcome me back to Starling in proper "Merlyn" fashion.  I didn't know any of them, at least from a first glance.  There weren't any recognizable faces in the crowd aside from my brother's.

"It's amazing how people you don't even know will show up for a party in your honor," I commented, taking a sip from the vodka cranberry Oliver had gotten me.

"You know that anyone would jump at the chance to not only attend an infamous 'Tommy Merlyn party', and welcome a local celebrity back home," He quipped.  "Happened to me too when he threw mine."

 "He threw you one of these too?" I nearly choked on my drink.  "Where was I?"

"This was right before we heard what had happened to you in Afghanistan," Oliver explained.  "Actually, Tommy found out later that night after I'd left and called me immediately.  He was pretty messed up about it."  I smiled warmly.

"You know, our relationship got kinda strained after you went missing," I admitted.  "I just couldn't handle anymore shit coming my way so I went off and joined the Army to give my life some sort of structure.  Tommy got really mad at me when he found out and we didn't talk for months, even after I shipped out.  He didn't call me until he had some sort of idea that you'd magically be in Hong Kong, and _begged_ me to come out on my next leave and help him look."

"Did you?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah, I did.  I thought if we found you, life might go somewhat back to normal, all of us being so close," I mused.  "And then Tommy got kidnapped for Lord knows what reason and I told him it was too dangerous, and that there weren't any signs showing you'd even been there, let alone end up there from a wreckage at sea.  Convinced him to go home and just cope like the rest of us.  I was really mad that he gave me hope that you'd be alive, and that there was no proof you were.  We didn't talk for almost two years."

"Sorry to cause you guys so much trouble," Oliver apologized, clasping his hand around mine.

"It's not your fault, Ollie," I smiled lightly.  "Accidents happen, boats sink.  All that matters now is you're home, where you belong."  He gently ran his thumb over my fingers a few times, giving me an unfamiliar warm sensation deep within.  I ignored the feeling, downing the rest of my drink as a new song began to boom through the open space.

"C'mon," Oliver coaxed, standing and pulling my hand along with him. 

"Where?"

"I still owe you a dance from that birthday I missed," He smiled, pulling me out to the dance floor.  The music was unfamiliar to either of us, but we soon buried ourselves in the throngs of people swaying all around us, losing ourselves to the beat. It was a little awkward at first, but his arms found my waist as mine snaked around his neck and we fell back into the old swing of things, remembering days past of when we'd go out and spend all night drinking and dancing the night away with my brother beside us. Soon the songs were all blending together as we continued to dance, occasionally switching our positions and having fun with the songs foreign to us both. 

"Last one, I'm going to need a breather soon," I leaned up to whisper in his ear as I tapped the hidden bandage on my leg.  "You're tiring me out."

"So soon?" Oliver teased, brow raised. I shrugged my shoulders with a smile, listening to the lyrics as we continued to hold each other and move in time with the beat.

_The sun goes up, the stars come out._

_And all that counts is here and now._

_My universe will never be the same._

_I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came._

I found myself taking the words to heart.  I was home, safely, given the alternative, and so was Oliver.  We each made it through some tough situations, only to end up back here, the pull between us strong.  I'd always felt empty after he disappeared, but I attributed it to losing someone who was so close to me, he had become almost like a second older brother.  Tommy, Laurel, Oliver, and I went everywhere together and did everything together, and once he was gone, that all ended.  And here we were, just like before, as if nothing had changed, those five years didn't alter us in any way.  And all that mattered to me right now was this moment; this perfect moment of dancing in Oliver's arms, at a party my brother painstakingly had organized and made sure was perfect to a T. I knew I'd savor this memory for the rest of my life.

Oliver's eyes shone under the heavy dance lighting brighter than I'd seen since I'd been home, making me smile warmly.  The song slowed and he pulled me into his arms, clasping our hands together as his free hand wrapped around my lower back to sway us to the softer tones.  As the last tunes rang out, he dipped me low and pulled me back into his chest, pulling me into a tight hug.

"How's that for a missed birthday?" He beamed brightly.

"Eh," I shrugged, teasing him as Tommy came rushing up.

"I've got two hot blondes who want us to dance with them," He grinned.  "And they're twins! Come on," He begged, grabbing Oliver by the arm, practically dragging him across the building.  Oliver shot me a concerned look and I waved him off.

"Go on, I'm just going to step out and get some air real quick.  Humor him."  The boys disappeared off into the crowd, and I fought my way back through the dance floor, looking for a side exit I could use to step out for a moment.  _Just like the old days._


	12. Chapter 12

I found a small side entrance and exited the noisy room filled with party-goers after grabbing my clutch, propping the door so it wouldn't close all the way in case it was locked.  The air outside was cool and crisp, a dramatic change from the atmosphere within.  I leaned on the building, taking a few deep breaths as I gently massaged the muscles in my upper legs.  They hadn't been through something like this in years, and a healing gunshot wound didn't help the situation any.  I heard another door further down fling open, and a drunk giggling woman and a man came stumbling out, unaware of my presence.

I watched them mosey down the alleyway, hands all over each other as they continued to laugh, until the man pinned the woman to the brick wall a few hundred feet away.  They immediately began to make out, bodies plastered together in one messy heap.  _Dear God, get a room or bother to check if there are people present before you start fucking in the middle of public._ The cloud cover over the moon had dissipated, allowing me to see clearly everything that was going on.  I wondered if I should walk down there, hail them a cab, and send them on their merry way.  But soon I saw myself peering into the things only horror movies are made of. 

The man pinned the woman's arms over her head, and I could faintly hear her ask what was going on.  The man said nothing, but I began to hear growling; a deep, purely animalistic sound.  Knowing better than to think there were wolves or anything of the sort in this part of Starling City, the noise made no sense until the woman began to scream.  I bounded into action, running the short distance to them and tackling the man off the woman, pinning him to the ground.  What I saw frightened me; there was no way this could be real.  The man's teeth were all sharpened and fang-like, his eyes yellow with a narrow, oval shaped pupil.  His nails hand grown into what appeared to be claws. 

"Run!" I yelled to the strange woman.  "Go get help!" She took off screaming, running as fast and hard as she could down the alley.  The strange man-creature managed to roll me off of his body with such force that I rolled clear across the alleyway into the brick building across from us.  My adrenaline had begun to kick and I was able to rise to my feet in time to mostly block his large, clawed fingers coming at my face and neck.  He still managed to slice open my skin with ease, but I was able to deflect it enough that the injury wouldn't be as severe _.  What the hell is this thing?!  Oh God, I'm going to die at my own party._ His hands came back at me and I managed to grab both of his wrists, using all my strength to try and prevent them from digging into my chest, his new target.  His lips were pulled back over his fangs in a snarl as he pushed harder and harder, buckling my knees, trying to claw open my chest _.  This is it.  This is how I die.  Fuck._

* * *

 

After an hour of searching relentlessly, Dean found no signs of the werewolf Sam had discovered was hunting in the area every full moon. Grumpily he retreated to the Impala, glad to see Sam was already there waiting on him.

"Find anything?" He yelled out, calling Sam's attention as he grew closer.  Sam shook his head.

"Did you?" He asked as Dean reached the car.

"Not a damned thing," He growled.  "You're sure it's a werewolf that's hunting around here?"

"That's what the evidence seems to point to," Sam pulled the file back out of the car, handing it over to Dean.  "I mean, it's pretty irrefutable stuff."  Faintly, they both heard screams as the silhouette of a woman appeared in the alley before them.  She was screaming in fright at the top of her lungs, running frantically towards them.  Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged, before they ran towards the woman desperately running for her life.  She ran straight into Sam, crying hysterically as she reached him and burying her face in his shirt for a moment.

"Help her!" The woman sobbed.  "There's some… some _thing_ down there, it's attacking another woman!  She stopped it from hurting me!  You have to help her!" Sam and Dean exchanged quick looks before Sam motioned his head to the alleyway the woman had just emerged from. 

"Go!" He urged.  Dean took off running, as hard and as fast as he could.  It had to be the werewolf, and he'd be damned if he let it kill another helpless woman.  But how helpless could this woman be if she saved another from becoming a victim herself? The harder he ran, the closer he got and was able to make out two frames, one more slender and petite, backed into the wall of a nearby building, as it caught the arms of the second as they plunged towards the slender body.  He began to discern one as the woman mentioned before he took off, and the other was clearly the werewolf, or so he'd hoped.  Silver wouldn’t do much if it weren't a werewolf.

The further he got, the more Dean could begin to recognize features on each figure.  The woman was slender, in a little black dancing dress and tall heels, dark, curly hair in a mess around her as she fought off her attacker.  He could see the shape of the attacker's claws in the moonlight, and the growling noise was all too evident of a werewolf attack.  Dean's mind began racing; the last time he'd seen Alex, her hair was about that color and curled, and Oliver Queen had just arrived with a garment bag and something else.  _Shit. Alex._ He pushed himself to his limits to rush to her as he saw her knees begin to buckle, he couldn't let the werewolf kill anyone, let alone Alex.  Dean yelled out her name, but she didn't respond, she just kept sinking under the sheer strength of the werewolf trying to dig into her chest.  _Fuck._   Dean had to do something, and he had to do it quickly.

* * *

 

I could hear footsteps hitting pavement at a rapid pace, someone was running towards me.  Someone was going to try to help me.  But they were too far away; I was quickly losing my battle with this mutated… _thing_ before me.  My head was now level with its chest and it just kept gaining leverage against me the further down I sank, desperate to keep its hands away from my body.

" _Alex!_ " I thought I heard someone call out my name.  _Great, now I'm hearing things.  I'm going to die thinking someone knows I'm out here._

" _DUCK, ALEX!_ " I heard Dean's voice shout.  " _DO IT NOW!_ " With a final shove, I threw the creature's arms up as I let go, hitting the ground on my knees and covering my head as a gunshot rang through the alley.  The thing staggered back a few steps, and a few more gunshots rang out before it took off running, deeper into the darkness and further from the celebration nearby. 

Dean's footsteps grew heavier and heavier as he sprinted after me, rushing to my side as I sat against the edge of a building, completely in shock and horror of what I'd just witnessed.  My breathing was heavy as he knelt beside me, my arms at my sides, elbows bent up with my hands wide open in disbelief.  Dean reached gently for my face, fingers brushing over the lightly torn and bloody skin that went from my upper cheek to my jaw.

"Alex, talk to me," He urged, forcing me to look at him.  My hands gently clasped his forearms as the shock began to wear off.  "Talk to me, Alex, come on, did it bite you?"

"What…what the fuck was that thing?" I slowly found my words.

"It was a werewolf," Dean spoke calmly but authoritative.  "Did it **bite** you?"

"No," I shook my head, "Just the scratch….wait, did you say _werewolf_?"

"Yes," He began to check every inch of open skin he could see.  "Are you sure it didn't bite you?"

"It didn't bite me, Dean," I reassured.  "There's a werewolf loose in Starling City?  Did you kill it?!"

"Apparently," Dean replied sarcastically.  "And no, it ran off.  Where the hell were you going, dressed in _this_?" He motioned to my now wrinkled and slightly torn dress.  I simply pointed at the building with all the flashing lights and faint boom of the bass emitting from it.  "What's that?"

"My brother threw me a party.  I didn't have a choice but to go."  Dean gently helped me to my feet, keeping his light grasp on my elbows.

"So then how did you end up almost getting killed?"  His one hand gently cupped my chin, getting a closer look at the scratches and swelling.

"I came out for some air, saw this couple getting freaky over here, then she screamed." I was still trying to catch my breath as his thumb prodded the large bruise from impact that graced my cheekbone.

"So naturally you run towards the screaming, having to save the day," He groaned. 

"So did you, apparently," I shot back, pulling myself out of his grasp. 

"Yeah, but the difference is I know how to take one on without getting killed." He argued.

"A woman was screaming in terror!" I defended.  "I didn't know it would be a mutated freak hell bent on killing anyone that was trying to attack her!  Jesus Christ."

"It was still stupid, and reckless." Dean growled. 

"What a fucking night." I muttered, checking my phone.  _No calls or texts, no one is missing me._ I turned to walk back to the party but Dean grasped my upper arm, stopping me.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked.

"Back to **my** party." I stated directly. 

"In a dress that you just ruined by taking on a werewolf with a bruised and swollen cheek and three big gashes near your jawline?" He scoffed.  "I don't think so.  You need to clean those up," He pointed at the cuts.  "Come on, I'll take you home." 

"I'll call a cab." I refused, pulling my arm from his grip.

"Are you crazy?!" He yelled. "There's a fucking _werewolf_ out there somewhere that just tried to _kill_ you!  I'm not letting you out of my sight until you're home.  Come on."

" _Make me_." I growled. 

"You really wanna do this?  I know you're still recovering from your injuries from Afghanistan, Alex," Dean's voice was low.

"Go ahead and try," I threatened again.  Dean groaned before lunging at me, and I jumped out of the way. 

"Alex, stop it, let's just get you home and get those cuts cleaned up." He pleaded.

"No." He lunged again and I evaded him once more.  After the third one, I landed wrong on my heels and stumbled, allowing Dean to quickly scoop me by the waist and pull me up into his chest, one arm cradling my torso while the other was tucked under my knees.  "Goddammit, put me down!" I argued, punching him in the chest.

"Stop fighting me, already, Jesus Christ," He grumbled.  "You're going home.  **Now.** "


	13. Chapter 13

The rest of the night went by pretty awkward to say the least.  Dean didn't let up and carried me back to his car, the same Chevrolet Impala from his last trip here.  The woman I'd helped was continuously sobbing into another man's chest as he gently held her and patted her back, pleading with her to calm down, that she was safe now.

"Sam, this is Alex," Dean gruffly spoke as I continued to squirm in his arms.  "Alex, this is my brother, Sam."  Sam sent me small smile, still trying to calm down the hysterical woman clinging to his shirt.  "Let's get going," He spoke to Sam, who upon removing his arms from the visibly shaken woman, watched her crumble to the ground and begin to wail even harder. 

"Jesus Christ, she's still carrying on?" I muttered.

"Sammy, you're going to have to ride in the back with her and _calm her_ ** _down_**." Dean groaned.  Sam sighed heavily before helping the girl into the backseat of the car, sliding in beside her.  Dean briefly set me down in front of the front passenger door, opening it and blocking me in so I couldn't leave.  _Damn, he's really not leaving me a choice in the matter._ We had a small stare-off which ended with me sighing heavily and plopping onto the large bench seat as he closed the door behind me.

Sam began asking the woman where she lived, constantly reassuring her that the man couldn't get her anymore and they had to take her home.  She produced her ID, and Sam read the address off to Dean, before she slipped it back into her bra and her wailing finally began to subside.  She eventually fell asleep in the car, her head resting on Sam's shoulders, prompting him to carry her into the open home after we'd arrived.  He put her to bed, praying she'd only think this was a bad dream when she woke, and quietly snuck out back to the car.

The rest of the ride to my home was full of tension.  I could feel it radiating off Dean in waves, unsure of where this little incident left us.  I wasn't really left with a choice but to believe him now about his line of work; I'd seen it with my own eyes just an hour ago.  There are things out there that can't be explained.  _A man.  In the light of the full moon.  Grew claws and fangs.  His eyes changed. And he tried to kill me.  There's no way this can be real.  Am I living an all too real dream?_ I glanced at Dean, watching him as he drove along the darkened streets.  His brow was furrowed, he was visibly frustrated.  He had a death grip on the steering wheel and didn't bother to even speak to us once we began to drive.  _Can't be a dream.  Too freaky for that._

Dean made a pit stop at a motel towards the outskirts of the Glades, in the complete opposite direction of my home.  He threw the car in park and turned around, exchanging a glance with Sam.  Sam simply shrugged and fetched a key from his pocket before exiting and disappearing inside the dingy looking building. Dean peeled out and took off again, the drive still silent and beginning to really irritate me.

"Care to even tell me what's got you so worked up?" I quipped, hoping he'd at least answer a basic question.

"You don't want to know." Dean growled, refusing to make eye contact with me even once.

"Actually, I do.  You saved my life tonight," I quietly admitted.  "And I think there's somethings we _clearly_ need to talk about now."  Dean slammed on the brakes as he pulled over to the curb, throwing the car in park as it kept running.

"You want to know what has me so worked up, then?" He asked, anger seeping into his words.  " _You_.  It's you, Alex.  First I tried to tell you about this shit six years ago, _six fucking years ago_ , and you all but told me I was crazy and slammed a door in my face." He began counting items off on his fingers.  "Second, when I come back to ask you for help, you tell me I'm a liar and that I'm crazy _again_.  Now, when you're attacked and almost killed by a goddamned _werewolf_ , you don't second guess it when I tell you what it is and you wanna talk?!  That's what my problem is."

"Okay." I pursed my lips and spoke quietly.  "Then get rid of the problem.  Take me home and be done with it.  Simple solution."

"Except it's not that simple, and you don’t realize that," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut and leaned back in the seat.

"Then take me home and explain it to me." I offered.

"Yeah, there's a grand plan." He snorted.  "Tried that earlier, look where it got us."

"And that was before I was attacked by a…" The word felt foreign to my tongue, almost impossible to say.  "A _werewolf_ , as you called it.  I don't know what I saw tonight but I definitely know it wasn't human.  Explain it to me." I found myself reaching for Dean, fingers gently grasping his upper arm.  He glanced over, still clearly frustrated.  "Please," I asked softly.  With a sigh he threw the car back into gear and reached into his jacket pocket, tossing a rag into my lap.

"Fine, but at least wipe the blood off your face? Don't want you staining my upholstery." _So now he's trying to be Mr. Tough Guy? I'll take that over outraged._   I smirked to myself and did the best I could to clean myself up a bit before we reached home. We rode in silence again for another twenty minutes, but at least the tension had died down.  Dean parked near the front door and I let myself out, starting the trek up the front steps as he locked the car.  He followed me up the front hall to the staircase that led upstairs, straight into my room.

"I’m going to change real quick," I told him, fetching the sweats and sports bra from earlier off the bed.

"Where do you keep your first aid stuff?" He asked, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over a chair. 

"Medicine cabinet in the bathroom," I pointed through the doorway leading off my room.  "Can you grab the bag from the hospital that's in there too? I'm going to need that stuff too."

"Sure," He answered before disappearing around the corner.  I quickly stripped off the slutty dress from Tommy and pulled on the sports bra, noticing that my thigh wound had bled through the bandage around it.  _Great.  Can't put pants on yet._ I grabbed the trash can as I sat on the edge of the bed, my toes planted on the chair nearby, to keep the wound from leaking blood onto anything else besides the dress from earlier.  Dean returned with the bag and a handful of other supplies, a little shocked to see me sitting there almost completely naked.

"You okay?" I asked as he slowly handed me the hospital bag, unable to take his eyes off my legs.

"Ye..yeah," He answered, clearing his throat.

"Oh come on, you've seen me naked before." I teased, removing the bandage and tossing it away.  "This isn't anything new."  Dean dug around in the bag and grabbed some cotton, soaking it in hydrogen peroxide before handing it to me to clean up before replacing the bandage.  "Fuck this stings," I hissed.  "Fucking Christ, ow!" I paused, a half bloody cotton pad in my hand as I shook my hands.

"Here," Dean took the pad from me.  "I've learned it seems like it hurts less if someone else does it."  He gently wiped away the dried blood and disinfected to wound as quickly as he could.  I grabbed the triple antibiotic ointment from the bag and applied it to the hole that was scabbing over before Dean pressed a fresh gauze pad to both sides of the wound and wrapping it with sterile dressing. 

"You've had experience with this," I commented, watching him wet another pad with the hydrogen peroxide.

"More times than you know," He sighed, gently grasping my chin in his free hand.  "This is probably going to sting worse since it's fresh, just so you know." I wrapped my hand around his wrist as he began to wipe at the scrapes on my face, hissing when the peroxide made contact with my skin.  My grip tightened up as he continued to work, dragging the cotton past my jaw and down the side of my neck.  "You can handle getting blown up, shot, and attacked by a werewolf, but a little hydrogen peroxide has you  acting like a baby," He chuckled.

"To be fair, I was unconscious a lot after the accident," I mumbled as he finished up with my cuts, gently prodding at the black and blue spot forming on my cheek.

"You're going to want to ice that," He muttered, walking away briefly to toss the dirty cotton away.  I stood up, shimmying into my sweat pants, before walking to the gas fireplace at the end of the room.  "Did you hear me?"

"You stayed here once, you know where to find it," I quipped back, flicking the ignition and adjusting the heat.  Dean shook his head, retreating from the room.  I flopped back onto the bed, laying on the mountain of pillows and I stared at the fire.  Something was different about Dean, ever since I confronted him in the car, and I couldn't figure out what it was.  Gone was the man from earlier this morning.  He was more gently, patient, caring.  _More like he was the last time he was in here._ I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment, unsure what to make of our current situation.  _The least you can do is hear him out, then make a decision.  He just saved your ass and took care of your wounds._


	14. Chapter 14

Dean headed back downstairs, his boots making a loud _thud_ with each foot fall as he descended to the lower level.  _At least this place is well lit_ , he thought to himself as he walked down the vast hall to where he assumed the kitchen was.  It'd been a while since he'd been here last, but he was still certain the kitchen was in this general direction.  His hunch proved correct and he found the kitchen dark, lit by only the low light from the bulbs in the range above the stove. 

Dean began opening drawer after drawer, searching for a towel to wrap the ice-pack in for Alex's cheekbone.  After about the eight-millionth try, he finally found the dish towels and slung one over his shoulder, pacing back to the double-doored fridge/freezer combo, pulling the freezer section open and searching for something suitable to use for her to ice her face.  He found a little ice pack like you'd find in someone's lunch box and wrapped it up quickly in the towel, turning to head back up the stairs.  He eyed a bottle of scotch sitting absently on the counter beside the freezer and tucked that under his arm as well.  _Maybe some alcohol will help get through this conversation.  Alex tends to talk more openly and honestly with some liquid courage._

Dean turned on his heels to head back to her bedroom and jumped back, face to face with a petite woman in a bathrobe holding a fry pan with a scared look on her face.

"Uh, hi," He quickly spoke, trying to calm both himself and the woman.  "I'm here with Alex, uh, Miss Merlyn." The woman set the pan down, clutching at her chest.

"Okay, I thought you were some kind of robber," She breathed, pulling the robe closer to her chest.  "Is there anything else you or she need?" The woman was sheepish with her responses, obviously some kind of help her father had hired, Dean deduced. 

"No, ma'am, we'll be fine," He gave her one of his most dazzling smiles before leaving the kitchen.  Living like this, hired help all around to serve your every need, was something he'd never be used to.  Not like he'd get the chance to live this lifestyle, but it still struck him as odd.  Dean padded carefully back up the stairs, careful not to disrupt anyone else who might be living in the house like he'd frightened the maid.  As he made it back to Alex's cracked door, he could hear her voice softly speaking.

" _No, Tommy, I'm home and I'm alright.  I'm just super tired.  I'm not used to all of this anymore, ya know?_ " Her brother had called, undoubtedly to check on why she hadn't returned to her own party.  " _No, there's no reason for you to come home and call it a night too.  I'm already in my pajamas and changed all my bandages.  I'll see you later, okay? Just enjoy yourself and be safe._ " Dean held off entering until she had finished her phone call.  " _Love you too._ " 

* * *

 

After Dean had disappeared down the stairs my phone began to buzz on the nightstand beside me.  Tommy's name and picture flashed on the screen as I fumbled to answer it.  I swiped the little green answer button at least three times before it connected the call.

"Hey," I greeted softly.

" _Where'd you go?  I can't find you anywhere and Ollie said you went to get some fresh air the last we saw you._ " Concern dripped from Tommy's words, and I could almost picture him in a semi panic.

"I left," I simply stated.  "I couldn't take anymore, I'm sorry."

" _Where are you? Did you go home with someone? Who is he? Are you okay? Are you in danger?  Do you need me to come get you?_ " I snickered lightly, _Oh Tommy, I'm not you big brother._

"No, Tommy, I'm home and I'm alright," I tried to calm him.  "I'm just super tired.  I'm not used to all of this anymore, ya know?" I explained.

" _Do you need me to come home? I'll shut this down right now and I can be there in an hour or two._ "  His offer was sweet, but unnecessary; Dean and I had an important conversation that needed hashing out, and Tommy would only get in the way of that.

"No, there's no reason for you to come home and call it a night too." I smiled.  "I'm already in my pajamas and changed all my bandages.  I'll see you later, okay?  Just enjoy yourself and be safe."

" _Alright, Lex, love you._ " I could practically envision the soft smile on his face.

"Love you too." I brought the phone down from my ear and tapped the red bar on the bottom of the screen as Dean entered the bedroom, a bottle of scotch in one hand and a folded up towel in the other.  He gingerly closed the door behind himself and walked over, handing me the icepack tucked inside the towel, pressing it to my cheek first before letting me hold it myself.

"Hope you don't mind," He said as he set the bottle down on the nightstand between us as he sat in the bedside chair.  I shook my head, watching as he pulled the cork out and took a long pull before silently offering it to me.  I took it in my free hand and took an equally long drink, preparing myself for what was about to happen. "So, uh, where do you want to start?" He asked, breaking the silence after a few moments had passed.

"How about with tonight?" I suggested.  "How did you know where I'd be?"

"I didn't," Dean admitted, clasping his hands together as he leaned forward on his knees.  "Sammy just found the case by happenstance while I was here earlier.  We figured out where the werewolf was hunting and just decided to stop it."  He reached for the bottle, which I handed to him.  "I had no idea you'd be down there tonight until I saw it attacking you in the alley."

"Soooo…. _Werewolves_ …" The term still felt hard to say.  "Why do they attack people?"

"They feed on human hearts," Dean explained.  "And they can only transform on full moons.  Most don't remember the transformation process, they just kinda wake up at home covered in torn clothing and blood.  But when they're hunting, their baser animal instincts come out." He finally took his drink.  "This one keeps hunting in the same areas between here and Central City."

"So you're going to follow it then?" I asked for clarification.

"It's the only way to stop it from killing again.  We think it's responsible for over thirty deaths here in the past three years." Dean explained. 

"Oh," I spoke softly.  "So how do you kill it?"  Dean reached inside his jacket, pulled out his pistol, and removed the clip.  He handed me the first bullet he removed from it and I gently spun it in my fingers.

"Silver bullets.  The only thing we know of that can stop a werewolf." He gently took the bullet from my outstretched palm and reloaded his gun before tucking it back into the jacket behind him. 

"Why'd you ask me if it bit me earlier?" I took a long pull from the bottle before cradling it against my side.

"If you're bit by a werewolf, you become a werewolf," Dean's voice was low, his eyes trained to the ground.

"And if it _had_ bitten me?" I was afraid to ask, swallowing hard and watching his reaction.  His eyes met mine in a hard stare, and I could see the conflict boiling over within him.

"Normally we just put 'em down," He spoke really quiet.  "But… I don't know if I could, ya know…" He let the statement hang in the air.  "How about we change the subject, eh?"

"Yeah, okay," I reluctantly agreed, letting a small yawn escape my lips.  "What was it that you wanted to ask me about earlier before things blew up out of control?"  Dean grabbed the bottle from my side, taking a short drink.

"Well, you were right.  Dad's missing," He started.  He went on a hunting trip and hadn't checked in for a few days, so I went to Stanford and picked up Sammy to help me find him."

"You took your brother out of college to help you find your dad?" I scoffed.  "Wow, Dean.  Let the boy study."

"It was for the weekend," Dean defended.  "When we got to where he'd last checked in, he was gone, vanished, but all his stuff was still there which was odd.  We finished the hunt for him, and have been looking for him since."

"Sam didn't try to go back to school?" I asked.

"He tried, but something happened right after he got back," Dean's brow furrowed.  "Something that made him decide to come along."

"Something you don't want to talk about, I assume," I took the bottle back from him.

"Remember when I told you a demon killed my mother when I was four?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, what about it?" I took a small drink.

"Same demon killed Sam's girlfriend, in the same way."  I didn't know what to say.  "Since then we've been tracking down every lead we can find but the trail is running cold.  That's why I came here.  Dad was in the Marines, you were in the Army, I didn't know if there was any possibility that you might be able to help us find him."

"I don't know if I can, Dean," I admitted.  "I really don't know if there's anything I can do for you, I’m sorry."

"It was a long shot anyways," He shrugged, watching me yawn again.  "Getting tired? I can go."

"Yeah, I am, but I'm afraid," I glanced out the window to my right.  "What if the werewolf comes back and tries to kill me?"

"I don't think it will," Dean said, taking the bottle and putting the cork back in it before setting it on the nightstand.

"Will you stay with me, just until I fall asleep?" I pleaded.  "Even if it's just to make me feel better?" Dean sighed, pressing his lips together, before finally agreeing.  "Thanks, I'm just a little paranoid."  Dean took my hand in his, running his fingers gently over the backside of my knuckles. 

"It's not every day you face off against a werewolf," He teased.  "You know, you're taking this better than I thought you would."

"What other explanation is there, really, for what I just witnessed?" I quipped back.  I pulled his hand toward me, patting the space beside me on the bed.  "Get comfy, you might be here a while." Dean's eyes narrowed with caution.  "What, I can't offer you a better place to sit?"

"No, but what do you mean by a while?" He asked.

"Just trouble sleeping, nightmares coupled with anxiety," I shrugged.  "I mean, you don't _have_ to stay either, if you don't want to."

"If it helps," He shrugged, toeing his boots off before sliding on top of the bed beside me.  "You know, even for all the problems we've caused each other, I wouldn't let anything happen to you on purpose."

"I know," I yawned, crawling under the covers and relaxing into my pillows beside him.  He was close enough to lay on, cuddle against. But we were in murky water; a bad breakup gone worse, only to end up having him help patch me up and help me fall asleep.  I didn't want to press my luck.  "Goodnight, and thanks again, Dean." I caught one final glance of him with his arm up around the headboard, the other draped at his side before I closed my eyes.

"Goodnight, Alex."


	15. Chapter 15

Dean watched as it took Alex less than ten minutes to fall completely asleep.  A quick glance at the clock on her wall told him it was nearly 1:30 in the morning, and Dean let out a long sigh, knowing Sam wouldn't be happy when he got back to the motel.  Dean told himself he'd only stay another half hour to forty-five minutes at the most, just to make sure Alex would be okay, and then he'd sneak out and be on his merry way.  It was too late, or early, depending on how one thought about it, for a werewolf to attack her now.  She'd be safe, but Dean wanted to be absolutely certain she was asleep before running off to resume his hunt.

He spent the next half hour watching Alex sleep, watching the gentle rise and fall of the comforter over her body as she curled herself into a ball on her side, pulling to covers tight to make a cocoon around her.  Her features had relaxed, and he was finally able to recognize the woman he'd been close to all those years ago.  She was here, neutral look upon her face as she slept, eyes darting around behind closed eyes as she dreamt. Dean was half tempted to reach out, stroke her cheek, tuck her hair away from her face even. But if he touched her, she might wake, and he really needed to be going. 

He slowly rose from the bed, gathering his things in his arms as quietly as he could.  He gingerly opened the door and cracked it behind himself, toeing into his boots and lacing them quickly before heading for the stairs.  As he began to leave, the front door swung open with a violent crash and two men's voices rang out in the hall.  _Fuck._

" _C'mon Tommy,_ " One pleaded as another voice yelled out some drunken slurs.  _Great, her brother's home.  Just what I needed._

" _Oliver?_ " Tommy's voice asked for the other man.  Dean's face pinched into a grimace.  This **really** wasn't good.  " _Why'd I see you dancing so close with Lexie?  Do you like her?_ " Tommy's words rang through Dean's head; Oliver had danced with Alex? Closely? Last he knew they were just good friends, but who knows what the time they spent apart could do to their relationship.

" _Tommy, you're drunk,_ " He heard Oliver reply.  " _We were just dancing, there's nothing between us, you're overreacting._ "

" _Good,_ " Tommy slurred.  " _Cuz if you hurt her, I'd have to kick your ass._ "  Dean had decided he'd had enough listening and headed down the stairs.  Whatever they had to say to him, assuming they remembered him, couldn't be as bad as listening to his ex-girlfriend's drunken brother's babbling. He could see Oliver near the bottom of the stairs, trying to convince Tommy to go to bed, trying to usher him up to his room to no avail.  Once Oliver's eyes landed on Dean, they narrowed, a look of confusion and slight anger burning in his expression.

"What are you doing here?" He asked Dean quickly, ignoring Tommy clasping his shoulders for support as he nearly fell over.  "I thought Lex asked you to leave earlier."  Dean took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed, watching Tommy squint in his direction, trying to put the pieces together.

"He was here earlier?" Tommy asked Oliver.  "Why does he look familiar?" Tommy tried to whisper in Oliver's ear, though his tone was more shout-like.

"She did, but then she needed a ride home and I happened to be in the area," Dean quickly lied.  Letting her know there was something supernatural killing local residents was risky enough, he didn't need to try to explain it to the two men that promised him years ago they'd kill him if he ever hurt her. 

"Sure," Oliver replied, knowing there was more to the story than Dean was letting on.  "Well, thanks for getting her home alright.  We'll take it from here."

"Yeah, sure," Dean forced the fakest smile he could muster before heading for the door.  "You guys have a good night."  The door closed loudly behind himself as he fished his keys and cell from his pocket.  _Three missed calls from Sam.  Shit._ He dialed his brother's number as he started the engine.   "Talk to me." 

* * *

 

Something about seeing Dean in the house for a second time got Oliver's blood boiling.  This man lied to one of the most important people in his life and ran off on her, only to show up and start the process all over again years later.  Tommy was right to recognize the tall stranger on his staircase, but Oliver was hoping that he wouldn't remember this in the morning.  It wasn't worth angering Tommy all over again; last time he was ready to start a witch hunt and put the guy's head on a pike.  Oliver had the sense to memorize the license plate on Dean's car out front to be able to track it later, once Tommy was tucked safely into bed and he could resume his work as the vigilante.  Oliver Queen couldn't get the truth out of Dean, but The Hood certainly could.

It took him another ten minutes, but Oliver finally got Tommy up to his room and on the bed.  Forget actually putting him to bed; the minute Tommy's head hit the mattress he passed out, making Oliver's night a hell of a lot easier.  He made sure to leave a few aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand before he left, turning off the light behind himself.  He closed the door and headed off for the car, preparing to make his escape from Diggle again and head off to the factory to change and get his surveillance on Dean.  Oliver found Lexie's door cracked and peeked inside to check on her, pushing the door open more to get a better look.  She kept flailing about on the bed, tossing from side to side as small whimpers escaped from her lips.  Still asleep, her brow furrowed as she continuously moved, concerning Oliver.  He gently padded into the room, watching as her nightmare continued.  The closer he got, he was able to make out her whimpers. 

"No," She'd mutter.  "Don't."  She rapidly flipped onto her back, her legs bending slightly at the knee.  Her voice was soft, small, pleading in her tone.  Oliver was just about to sit down beside her when she bolted upright suddenly awake, grasping at her chest as she struggled to catch her breath.  "Oliver?" She asked, surprised to see him beside her.  Oliver was shocked, half bent to sit on the bed, staring at her.  "What are you doing here? Where's Dean?"

"He left," Oliver stated. "I heard you after I put Tommy to bed and came to check on you.  You were having a nightmare."

"Yeah," She agreed, her breathing finally evening out.  "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright," Oliver spoke lightly, sitting in the bedside chair.  "You wanna talk about it?"

"No, no, I'll be fine," She shook her head.  "You should get some sleep yourself." She leaned back in her bed against the headboard, fists knotted in the sheets. 

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired myself," He agreed, rising from the chair.  Oliver leaned over her, pressing his lips to her forehead.  "Sweet dreams, Lex."

"Bye, Ollie." She smiled up at him, waving gently as he left her room.  Oliver quickly left the Merlyn house, crawling back into the car as Diggle made his way to the driver's seat. 

"Everything alright, Mr. Queen?"  The body guard eyed him cautiously through the rear view mirror.

"Just fine, Diggle," Oliver answered.  "Let's go home."


	16. Chapter 16

_It was dark, too dark, as I ran through the industrial area of the Glades.  Something was chasing me, and it was fast.  I took any turn I could, trying to confuse it to get it to quit following me.  I could hear it on my heels, and I had nothing to defend myself with in case it attacked me.  I felt something heavy collide with the back of my legs, sending me flying and tumbling across the ground.  By the time I got back on my feet, I was face-to-face with the werewolf from earlier, lips pulled back into a snarl over its fangs.  It quickly backhanded me, throwing me into the wall of the building beside us.  Claws dragged across my chest before I could react, ripping the skin and muscle almost clear through to the bone.  I cried out in pain, watching as the second attack came.  I grabbed its wrists, trying my hardest to hold back the inevitable.  But this time Dean wasn't here to save me, I was on my own with no way out.  Images of Tommy and Oliver flashed through my mind as a sinking regret formed.  I'd be leaving them all alone, devastating them.  My knees began to buckle under the pressure of the werewolf, I could feel myself losing the fight_  

_"No," I cried out, desperately trying to prevent the final attack.  "Don't." The creature smiled, pure evil reflecting in its eyes.  With a final shove it overpowered me and claws ripped through my bones into my chest cavity.  I felt it grab my heart in a tight squeeze.  With a tug, it came tearing out and my body hit the ground, never to recover._

I bolted upright in my bed, grasping at my chest as my breath came in short, shallow spurts.  I immediately recognized my bedroom but was shocked to see Oliver crouched beside my bed where Dean had once been.  _Asshole, promised he'd stay_. My sudden movement had startled Oliver as he stared at me in complete shock. 

"Oliver?" I questioned.  "What are you doing here?  Where's Dean?"

"He left," Oliver answered.  _Dick, leaving right after I fell asleep when he said he'd stay._ "I heard you after I put Tommy to bed and came to check on you.  You were having a nightmare."

"Yeah," I agreed, my breathing finally returning to normal.  Images of the dream flashed through my mind as my chest still burned.  "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."  Oliver eased himself into the chair beside my bed, eyes filled with curiosity.

"It's alright, you wanna talk about it?"  I shook my head.

"No, no, I'll be fine," I assured him, glancing at the clock on the wall.  "You should probably get some sleep yourself," I mused, leaning back against the headboard of my bed. 

"Yeah, I’m pretty tired myself," Oliver agreed as he rose from the chair.  He leaned over the bed, gently kissing my forehead.  A warm feeling spread through me at the basic contact between us, making me smile brightly.  "Sweet dreams, Lex."

"Bye, Ollie," I waved at him as he left, closing the door behind himself.  A few minutes later I heard the front door close, signaling his leave.  I sighed heavily, slithering down into the bed, thinking of the day's events.  _Fuck. Me._

 

By the time I woke, it was nearly 11 in the morning, but I'd managed to make it through the night without any other terrifying dreams.  I quickly showered and changed the bandage around my thigh, leaving the others open to get some fresh air.  The scrapes from last night's attack were faint, and I was easily able to cover them with some makeup to not draw any unwanted attention.  I searched through my closet, realizing the only clothes in here were from before I left for basic.  Everything was either out of style, or too worn out.  _Mental note, call Laurel.  Girls day soon to fix this atrocity?_ I slipped into a super old pair of jeans that were a bit too snug for my liking and had blown out knees, and an old, black AFI tee that had the graphic fading.  _Thank god my shoe size didn't change,_ I mused as I slipped on a pair of old Chucks.  I ran a quick brush through my damp hair and headed downstairs to see if my brother had joined the land of the living.

I checked my phone as I headed for the kitchen, seeing missed calls from Tommy and Dean, as well as a text from the latter.

 ** _Sorry I couldn't stay, had to head to Central City to hunt this thing down.  Let me know if you find anything helpful. -D._** _Great,_ I thought.  _Typical Dean, taking off in the middle of the night._   I found Tommy slumped over, face buried in his hands over a plate of bacon, eggs, hash browns, and toast.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," I teased as I took the plate and fork from under him and slid into a different seat, beginning to devour his breakfast.  Tommy merely groaned, collapsing face first into the countertop.  "So, you find me a place yet or is the day my own?"

"We've got showings in…." He glanced at his watch.  "Two hours? Ugh."

"You'd better eat something to help with that hangover," I mocked as I continued to eat his meal.

"I was going to, but you took it," He pouted.  "Can we just stop at Big Belly on the way?  Please? I need the grease."

"Fine, but you're driving," I mused, laughing at the loud groan Tommy emitted.  "Take it or leave it."

"Fine, I'm going to go shower." He pushed himself away from the counter and slumped to his feet.  "If I'm not done in an hour, call 911."

"Suuureeeee," I teased, watching him shuffle off, hangover dominating his every action.  After he'd disappeared from sight, I sent a quick text to Laurel.

 ** _Desperately need new wardrobe and shopping partner.  You free soon?_**   Her reply arrived a few minutes later.

 ** _Bringing a civil suit against Martin Somers; pre-trial hearing tomorrow.  This weekend okay?_** I pondered her response.  Martin Somers, as in the multi-millionaire?  What client could she have that has a case against him?  I quickly typed out an answer.

 ** _That works, let me know when!  Thanks! :)_**   I slid the phone into my pocket and retreated to the living area to wait on Tommy.  Until I had my own place, being here, in this house was stressful.  _Might as well watch some television to dull the anxiety._   I flipped on to the news, expecting to see reports of last night's party and other random tidbits of mine, Tommy's, and Oliver's lives plastered in there.  Instead, I was looking at a man, dressed all in green with a hood over his face, carrying a bow and a quiver full of arrows.  They were calling him 'The Hood', and apparently he was targeting people and seeking justice for wrong doings as a vigilante.  His first 'victim' was corrupt millionaire Adam Hunt.  _There's nothing wrong there, dude's crooked as shit and as shiesty as they come.  This 'Hood' guy is probably doing us all a favor._

Tommy's unmistakable footfalls had joined me, watching the report over me as he buttoned up his shirt.  He looked more refreshed than earlier, which was a welcome sight.

"Have you seen this?" I asked.  "Masked man taking on the corrupt upper-echelon of Starling?"

"Yeah, it's absolutely nuts," Tommy muttered, watching the report.

"Dad better watch out, he may be on the list," I chuckled. 

"That's not funny, Lexie," Tommy shot me a serious look.  "I know he's not your favorite person, but Adam Hunt is _dead_.  He," Tommy pointed at the vigilante.  "Killed him."

"Could've been a mistake," I mused.  "Either way, looks like it's a definite possibility that Dad could be a target and he should look out."

"Yeah, I agree," Tommy said, flicking off the television.  "Let's go get you an apartment."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know there's like an almost eight month gap here between posts, but I'm now in college full time and have to work two jobs to support that so time to write is very limited. To those of you who are still reading this, or subscribing, or any combination therein, I appreciate it!! Thank you so much for being so patient with me!!! You rock!!

****

After an entire afternoon of showings with an overly peppy realtor and an entirely unhelpful and hungover brother, I finally settled on a loft in the heart of the city that was about 2000 square feet.  Tommy tried to protest my choice, mostly making groans and telling me how the place itself was unfinished, but therein lies the beauty of it.  It's _unfinished_ , meaning I can transform the property into exactly what I want.  The open floor plan on the first level of the loft is an added bonus.  It was around four when we returned to the mansion, and Tommy immediately headed for his bed, claiming he needed a nap before his mysterious 'plans' for the evening.  _Guess he can't party like he used to_ , I snickered to myself.  I settled for flopping onto my own bed, channel surfing due to a lack of really anything to do or hold my attention.  Boredom settled in quite quickly, and I found myself flipping through my phone for Oliver's contact information.  I hit the dial button before I could register what I was actually doing, and pressed the phone to my ear, listening to the rings before he finally picked up.

 

 _"Hey, Lex, what's up?"_ His voice was bright, cheery, infectious even, spreading a smile to my face.

 

"Hey Ollie, guess what I did today?" I chirped back, leaning back on my bed.

 

_"Well, from what I've heard from Tommy today, I'm going to have to say you bought that loft he didn't want you to?"_

 

"How'd you know?" I teased.

 

 _"All he did was complain that he wanted you to take a furnished home and how he thought that place was a massive mistake."_ Oliver chuckled.  _"But I'm glad, you've got your own place."_

 

"Yeah, me too," I agreed.  "Now I just have to finish it which I can do on my own time.  The biggies are already done- master suite, kitchen.  I can finish the rest to make it what I want, when I want."

 

 _"I'm pretty sure my mother has the numbers for some contractors and some interior designers if you want them,"_ Oliver offered.

 

"Thanks, Ollie, but I'm really looking forward to tackling this on my own."  The phone beeped twice in my ear, and I pulled it away to glance down at the screen.  Dean's name repeatedly flashed, making me groan.  "Hey, Oliver, I gotta go, I'm getting another call.  I'll see you soon though, right?"

 

 _"Sure thing, Lexie."_ I hit the button to switch over, deciding to let Dean know I was thoroughly annoyed.

 

"This better be good," I groaned.

 

 _"It's heading back your way,"_ I could hear the anger in his voice and picture his grimaced face.

 

"Excuse me?" I questioned.  "Didn't you chase that _thing_ to Central City?  That's _miles_ from here.  Plus, you were going there to kill it."

 

 _"Yeah well it attacked us and got away which is why I'm calling you, Alex,"_ Dean growled.  _"You need to stay home, wait for me to get there.  Do you understand?  You don't leave that house until I get there."_

 

"Bitch please," I sarcastically chuckled.  "You don't control me, Dean, if I feel like going somewhere I'm going to go.  I'm not a child you can just boss around."

 

_"Alex, this thing has your scent.  It can find you.  It's not safe for you out there alone."_

 

"I don't care, Dean," I scoffed.  "Is this why you're calling?  To try and frighten me into staying home?" It was highly unlikely that I was going to go anywhere to begin with, but being told by a guy who has now flitted in and out of my life twice for some bullshit ass reasons really was getting on my nerves.  Maybe I'd go out anyways, just to piss him off.  What's the worst thing that can happen to me, seriously?

 

_"I mean it Alex, it's not safe out there for you right now.  I, we… we don't know where it is, or where it's going but we can assume that it's coming back to find you.  This one, it's habitual, only going between Sterling City and Central City.  And since it just left Central, it has to be heading back towards you.  Do_ **_not_ ** _leave that house."_

 

"Whatever, Dean," I sighed.  "Look, I gotta go.  I just bought a home and I need to start looking at floor plans and decorations and shit.  Bye." 

 

Before Dean could protest, I hung up the phone and tossed it on the nightstand.  It immediately began to ring, his name flashing repeatedly on the screen, but I ignored the quiet buzzing and focused back on my television.  I was home, far away from where I was attacked the previous night.  And if that _werewolf_ (God, that term still felt foreign to think, let alone speak) were trying to kill me, it would've found me last night.  Truth of the matter was Dean was just being his normal, paranoid self.  He was always overly cautious when it came to me and my safety, even the first time around.  Any time he had a bad feeling, he'd whip out a pistol he'd constantly had hidden in the back of his jeans and search the area to make sure we were safe.  It was one of the things I found most annoying, but also sort of cute about him in the beginning- how selflessly he wanted to protect me.  It was so different, being only twenty and used to getting everything I'd ever wanted, having this guy who seemed so willing to put himself in harm's way to keep me- a girl he'd hardly known- safe.

 

The cellphone continued to buzz until Dean finally got the hint that I wasn't going to pick up, so he shot me a text. 

 

**_I'll be there in an hour.  Be dressed and ready to leave when I get there._ **

 

_As if._


	18. Chapter 18

Dean was mad.  Actually, he was beyond mad.  He was livid.  They'd left Alex, and Sterling City, tracking the wolf that had attacked her all the way to Central City.  _And it fucking got away_.  Dean had a rag pressed to a cut on his cheekbone, applying just enough pressure to get the bleeding under control so he could call Alex to let her know that it was heading back towards her.  She wasn't safe anymore, and it was his fault for letting the damned werewolf get the jump on him.

 

"Dean, you can't blame yourself," Sam tried to calm his brother down from beside him in the Impala.  "It happens to everyone."

 

"This was supposed to be an easy hunt," Dean growled.  "And now Alex is in _danger_ ** _again_** _."_ Sam pursed his lips, brow flaring, eyes diverting to the floor.  There was no getting through to Dean when he was this upset, it was just like trying to get through to their father.  Virtually impossible.  He watched as Dean removed the rag from his cheek, dabbing at it a few times to make sure the cut he'd gotten had stopped bleeding. 

 

"So, we follow it back to Sterling and put it down, right?" Sam suggested.

 

"Yeah, but first I gotta make a call," Dean answered gruffly, fishing his cellphone out of his jacket pocket.  Sam watched his brother search through his call log before pressing the 'dial' button and pressing the phone to his ear.  Sam could only hear Dean's side of the conversation, but he was willing to bet his life that Dean had called Alex.  Dean was silent for all about 30 seconds before he began speaking.  "It's heading back your way," Dean informed Alex as soon as she answered his call.

 

 _"Excuse me?"_ She wasn't happy.  _"Didn't you chase that_ thing _to Central City?  That's_ miles _from here.  Plus, you were going there to kill it."_   Her attitude was pissing him off.

 

"Yeah well it attacked us and got away which is why I'm calling you, Alex," He growled in response.  "You need to stay at home, wait for me to get there.  Do you understand?"  He needed her total cooperation- he wasn't about to let that thing tear into her again.  Just seeing her last night struggling to fight it off was enough to scare him.   "You don't leave that house until I get there."

 

 _"Bitch please."_ He could hear her chuckle- clearly she didn't take this as seriously as he did.  _"You don't control me, Dean,"_ He wanted to shout at her insolence.  _"If I feel like going somewhere I'm going to go.  I'm not a child you can just boss around."_   If he wasn't livid before, he was now.  Did she not understand that this was a life and death situation?

 

"Alex, this thing has your scent.  It can find you.  It's not safe for you out there alone."  He was trying really hard not to yell at her, and he hoped she could tell how strenuous this was for him.

 

 _"I don't care, Dean."_ That made his eyes go wide in disbelief.  _Did she really just say that?_   He couldn't believe what he was hearing.  _"Is this why you're calling?  To try and frighten me into staying home?"_   Dean took a deep breath to collect himself before he did something that would further ruin their already tumultuous relationship- he could shout all he wanted at Sammy, but Sammy would always be there.  He had to really think before he did something rash that would further jeopardize Alex's safety.

 

"I mean it, Alex, it's not safe out there for you right now," He explained.  "I, we… we don't know where it is, or where it's going but we can assume that it's coming back to find you.  This one, it's habitual, only going between Sterling City and Central City.  And since it just left Central, it has to be heading back towards you.  Do **not** leave that house."  He heard Alex sigh.

 

 _"Whatever, Dean.  Look, I gotta go.  I just bought a home and I need to start looking at floor plans and decorations and shit.  Bye."_ She hung up before he could get a word in edgewise.  His blood was boiling, in turn making him press harder on the gas pedal.  The engine roared in response, and the car lurched forward, speeding along even faster.  Dean needed to get back to Sterling- to Alex- fast.  He repeatedly tried to call her, to continue their conversation, but Alex refused to pick back up.  With an angry huff, he typed out a quick message.  **_I'll be there in an hour.  Be dressed and ready to leave when I get there._**   He hit the send button with some force, flipped his phone shut rather angrily, and tossed it to the seat beside him.  _She'd better be there.  She better be in that goddamned house when I get there._


End file.
